passing through the customs with nothing to declare
but the shame of being there.
what to do with a rhyme and a lie that present themselves
to the mind as something to be written.
a fragment as title reaching out to others equally beset
by the need breath by breath to be remembered.
I try to recall what I thought when she left me with nothing
but the beginning of silence to go on.
since when the requirement of music
echoing in me.
without sound the world is a world without ears
where there’s no one to hear.
if there were an image for what I felt what would it be
and how would I describe it.
the sooner something’s said the sooner it yields to time
and a further word.
the words will not stop no matter the gates and grilles
to go through.
I bring them with me piece by particular piece
in part as shameless proof.
.
Ray Malone
Picture Rupert Loydell
.