Swimming towards emptiness on a bright summer day

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Swimming towards emptiness on a bright summer day
(for Julian, Mikale and Vincent)

   The unforeseen visitor,
   emptiness, like blood,
can be graceful and intelligent. Poured into
    the human body, it can
    be useful. You can
    gather it in your arms,

call it, all the cells and platelets, “harvest”.

    But be careful, because
    “it” can come with the
mechanism of wild gestures.
    It will remind you that
    you need your rest after a
    lover has left you high
and dry. It will make you shake it
    off like a fish. You will

    find yourself swimming
    towards it on a bright

summer day without a care in the world.

    The mansion of the sky
    on fire. Life tired of the
    heat and dust. Emptiness will
    be on your tongue. It will
    be your mother tongue
until a replacement comes along.
    Another migration will

take place. You will fall in love again.

    You will learn to live
    again. It will happen
    when you least expect
    it, though. When your
    country is tired of being

    broken by waves and
    vertigo. Of being cold
    or tired. Of being called
    “meat country”. Or the
    exit. Or the escape. Or is

the country terrifying the quiet.

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