I see you on the side street
Your eyes are lit up in the darkness
I hear the sound of a motorcycle
The lake is black
I can't even be sure that the stars are there
I am rocking gently in the silence
My hands are made of fire
I see you there sitting under the shade of a tree
A tree in a garden submerged by water
A young girl drowned there once
The sound fills my mouth until I cannot speak
There was a bar, I remember, where the dead people sat
The glass was frosted and snow hung gently on the canopies
After the frogs came, there was no point trying any more
Better just to sit, and not to speak. Because anything said was a lie
The truth cradles me in the dark, but I turn away to the window
I look out at the street
It must be 3am. There is nothing
No cars, no sounds,
not even stars
The road is covered with snow. I watch it fall in a whisper
I am submerged
I am falling deeper inside myself
You are watching me
I feel your eyes fixed on mine, beside the night mirror
that sits on my cabinet
Your disdain fills the space between my sweat soaked sheets and my piss pot
I hear a sound
A creak
I believe the couple in the painting come out and walk around the house when I am not looking.
They cannot stand forever, frozen on that nineteenth century beach
Her dress is flowing white. He stands upright. A little dog at their feet.
The moon is blue and they are gazing out at the sea
The creaking is too loud. It comes right through my door, into my bed
I can't breathe
Ever since the world began
My nails are too long
The sound of the clipper soothes my mind
When the red boats come too close I prefer to sit alone in this room
I am always sitting alone in this room.
There are three lights that I see across the dark water
They comfort me strangely, like memories of boats on beaches that never existed
I see a sailor somewhere, but he has no face
