Image from Bruce Seaton

There Are Things We Cannot See

for Tran Dan

Over time

the nipple

is shaped

by the mouth

of the child

º

the sun spreads

the hips and legs

of tender grass

to enter it

to the root

º

there is flesh

and hunger

everywhere

in the world

º

we grow one

into the other

º

there is

the desire

to clothe

and the desire

to become

unbound

º

put a naked

man in a crowd

and watch us

make a human

palisade

around him

º

drag your hand

through the air

and it

leaves no trail —

spear the lake

it leaves no mark

º

yet here is

the whorled

cave of your navel

where a thin river

once coursed

º

and your nose

still flared

by breathing

º

and your eyes

wet wounds

where light

comes in

º

your face

the scar

of what

we all

must

remember