Sketch

Sketch


I imagine,
If I became a woman of no words
and minimal expression,
If I seal every exit from my body,
Allowing nothing out
But those smallest breaths needed
For my barest survival –

I could become, over time,
A primordial tuning fork
Absorbing all the world,
Sucking it in, assimilating All,
Condensing the entire universe
Inside of myself –

And with all the aliveness that I have gathered
And wrought into a single nerve fiber
Bound in blood and bone –

I could stand upon the cracked rocks
Of this barren earth
And, like a mirror,
Hold up this universe
To the universe
And, with a single, slow pulse
Rub out
Everything.


2/16/02