Girl, you say by the low
tide of some river, after
the dugout boats kissing
the shoreline have ferried us
the shoreline have ferried us
into open markets
where we give the women our hands
where we give the women our hands
and, in dark shops, ask them to make the curvilinear
black henna marks we have seen on them.
black henna marks we have seen on them.
Then it’s quiet again.
In the room of some town
In the room of some town
we remember now by its trees.
Girl, you say to me each time it darkens, and
Girl, you say to me each time it darkens, and
say even to the shadow leaves falling in the room
as if asking: stain us with your darker memory.
as if asking: stain us with your darker memory.
Nighttime in the postfuck,
after we have begun
after we have begun
one of the rare anime films you find and left
it paused again on some cherry blossom
it paused again on some cherry blossom
field, felts of thin light rimming the borders
of our door from the narrow hotel passage.
of our door from the narrow hotel passage.
Girl, you call me in time, where this too can be forgotten.
As the fish in foil, that I,
As the fish in foil, that I,
impossible to satisfy,
kept buying from that suburb store.
kept buying from that suburb store.
The hands that made them asking for more
things in dim light:
things in dim light:
salt, oil, while we waited.
As if this were the kind of year
As if this were the kind of year
we could ask for anything,
mescal in the random street shop,
mescal in the random street shop,
and it would be brought to us.
Time to stand still and in some grove,
Time to stand still and in some grove,
there would be the orange of the dying
sun falling over the town houses. In the fields,
sun falling over the town houses. In the fields,
it would be daylight and another year.