MATRIX AND DREAM

Inaudible things, chipped

nightly away:

breath, underground

through winter: well-words

down the quarried light

of lullaby-rill

and chasm.

You pass.

Between fear and memory,

the agate

of your footfall turns

crimson

in the dust of childhood.

Thirst: and coma: and leaf—

from the gaps

of the no longer known: the unsigned message,

buried in my body.

The white linen

hanging>crushed

In the field.

The smell of mint

From the ruin