Suspended Intersections

...and the wall breaks

and the thousands of pieces,
the world of distraction
revolve around my eyes
preventing other lights to reach

The old words of my grandmother.
her face - the words changing

and miss in the deepest
what I never knew

the deepest, the long-ago forgotten

bikes run within me
watching hills delineate

 in silent film

The smile is not heard
the most haunting silence
speaks and is not heard

The words that my grandmother wanted to tell me

Her mouth moves in the air that does not exist
and it insists, insists
a smile
the secret that can not be forgotten
and that hovers and that hovers

What was best kept was stored dying

And the music vibrates, extends disappearing
almost static
and under its water the words are indistinguishable

The most important is not deciphered

And her mouth articulates in a quiet
a quiet and wise despair

and nothing sounds besides that
sharp A that drags itself,
that slides and shuts

The most important you can not tell

It moves in the same eternal sun
the same gesture perpetual, simple
so easy to understand...

 her mouth articulates in a quiet
quiet and wise despair