Silk / 一絲
June 14, 2020
![](https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/44964ae16faf9e08a3af1d377e32f39c44ad3a10acd1c32651c5372d08e74359/96234919_251082089635646_2402651224173182976_n.jpg)
![](https://jaziimun.files.wordpress.com/2020/06/96215616_2818167008309003_5805488443391737856_n.jpg)
When day falls dirty into palms
I dream of you
at the overhang of sky,
old sun tangled in my hair.
My exhale cocoons in the window.
I confess to the candle
alight at your shoulder.
Between language I can’t and language you don’t
(speak)
how do we
I come to a still body of water by the way,
watch the words
unravel into threads:
![](https://jaziimun.files.wordpress.com/2020/06/97107196_624324004963039_9109804752132112384_n.jpg?w=732)
![](https://jaziimun.files.wordpress.com/2020/06/96145813_233283947982406_3614463366132662272_n.jpg?w=731)
you might have said goodnight.
Just before sleep I hear you
—rattling—against the ends;
my tongue will not surface.