chorus 27 / Ojito Canyon / what consoles does wondering console - Daniela Naomi Molnar

 Pink light in ribs, asking again how to see.

                            Inquires as to the shape of wind.                                                                                                        A good question                                     highlights a rupture in the bathymetric map.                                     I’ve listened hard in order to see. But what is seenasks back.Ribs gone gray, shifted north.                                                Yes, he said to me, I’m pushing you away.                                                What else is there to say?I’m pushing you. Ribs crack. Fragments flung                                                 against the dome. Why trust anyone, ever.                    Because the flag in the valley                                                           trust-traces wind.                    Because rust                                                           trust-traces corrugation.                    Because an abacus of trust.                                                           Because a life lived without trust                    is a sad life to live.                                                                                  So I lay my whole body flat                                                                                                   in the icy river                                                                                                                      until I can’t ask. His body shook even when he was still. Which means he was neverstill. I saw this as a sign of his enchanted, creative agitation. Later, itwas a sign of his shiftiness, his shadiness, his inability to sit even withhimself.                                                         Ribs weft-grown, east-pressed, dissolve. Small birds in the thicket unbutton the air with song.