page 29

[ananda_daydream]

so many voices ebb and flow
these waves of conversation and relation
which pass over me as I remain without motion
a few unconscious ripples the only traces
    of an unremarkable drowning

cigarettes and cellphones
factory-faded jeans and sunfree tans
    and each girl's face a painter's masterwork
constrained not by walls of cement and stone
    but by rules of flesh and tones of voice
so soon silence becomes my presence
so soon the eyes are all that speak

the tones of time on pages soon-filled