There are places I go
When the world speaks far too much of time
And place.
I find myself lost, in the hypnotic moan of the river
Wandering through fog thick enough to blanket
The voices in my head with silence
Briefly I trace the initials carved into wooden guard rails,
And pretend to know more than the scar they've left behind
Staring into an unforgiving depth, I imagine what they had seen
A bountiful river illuminated by midafternoon sun
The way her lips curved, modestly
and the way he stumbled at first, without words to guide him.
Between them the water screamed a welcome, promising more than it should.
That is a time forgotten,
I watch myself, a reflection in the water against a golden light.
Wondering how many others have longingly stared into their own selves, wishing to be swallowed.
I am present, in this reality
Drawn to the history left in currents,
Words abandoned carelessly in the flow,
The amity is unspoken between us
In the dull morning glow,
The water welcomes me,
with more
Accord then I have shown.
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