Overlooking

"Do I dare

disturb the universe?"

- T.S. Eliot

Here is the scene:

having cast one glance

too few at you, I go up

and write on your back.

Not my words, actually,

though I wish they were mine.

I wish, too, that words

hadn't been invented yet.

Like this, for example:

this is too safe, too generic

a term. The lights below

turn the sky red. Again.

The drizzle settles, and

having settled, turns into sweat.

Or words, though I do wish

they didn't exist. Yet. Like

this: I wish you could look

at me, too, scribbling, trying

to catch the lights and turn

them dotty-eyed, speck

that I am in this, your

greater scheme of things.

Antipolo

03/03/07