Is that the city sinking?
I heard it sink before
When I walked home from your
unable to face the morgue
Is that my mother crying?
I thought I recognized that song
She whispered it in a lullaby the night her grandmother was gone.
Is a vanquished soul with me tonight
As the rumble becomes clear
Will I live with them in the after night
when the depth remain permanently unclear
Is that my mind approaching
I think I recognize its fate
That piteous fear awakened the consciousness escaped
Is that our bodies
Wrestling to permanently encoil?
(A thought of pristine emotion)
Or the sweaty descent to the boil.
Is that my breast beating
Or my mother’s breast
No, the streets are gone again
Still vanishing in
Your full silhouette.