Lotus Sutra (A Poem)
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There is the sound of this train
traveling by
my thigh burns
with the beauty of a new
tattoo -- he inked into me
a symbol - grace,
effortless grace,
this night echoes on. I feel
a stirring in the depths
sitting there,
more like laying there - reiterating my life
to myself in numbers, waves,
heat pain in the most pure, simple form...
I felt as though we knew each other
long before this night. Speaking while creating
art. The rhythm of it. The others,
unspoken truths, spoken
laughter... sarcasm and cigarette smoke
hanging in the air like
a lotus petal
stuck on water.
Sometimes we have nowhere
else to go except
back to
who we are to begin with.
Begin again.
Now.
He speaks there, writing into me.
Now is the right time.
Where have I gone
to deserve this?
Going onward,
knowing pain,
growth.
You touch me,
knowing me,
won't you be
beginning again?
Go on,
follow me.
