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| Thought Fluttering among these words They are your footsteps in the next room the birds that return The nem tree that protects us protects them Its branches mute thunder douse lightning In its foliage the drought drinks water They are this night (this music) Watch it flow between your breasts falling on your belly white and black nocturnal spring jasmine and crow's wing tabla and sitar No and Yes together two syllables in love If the world is real the word is unreal If it is real the word the world is the cleft the splendor the whirl No the disappearances and the appearances Yes the tree of names Real unreal are words air they are nothing Speech unreal makes silence real Being still is a strand of language Silence seal scintilla on the forehead on the lips before it evaporates Appearances and disappearances Reality and its resurrections Silence rests in speech --Ocatavio Paz |