there is no story

August 18, 2007

Her eye rests in the marble like a galaxy
her son is rolling. A hamster spins its cage.
She shakes pages free of her fingers; Caryatids
and Atlas, elephants on a tortoiseshell
and something like God holds whosoever
wants to be held. Today he is rippling silver
beside some seaside town, she whorls smoke
through the gap, shedding ash. There is no story,
but keep talking love,
keep misting windows and painting your breath
into the clear of glass.

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3 Responses to “there is no story”

  1. this one is printed and posted on my fridge.

  2. i keep thinking about that line…

    there is no story.
    but we continue to tell
    or gesture towards something.
    breath does go on.
    so, if its not a story what is it?

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