If we could live all time at once,
there’d be no room for words
in that total lack of silence.
The sky, grown thick with birds
trailing themselves like film frames,
would buckle and heave, spurred
along by wind and flames,
competing moons and stars,
bodies no longer named
on any legible charts.
Buried beneath thunder
of innumerable heart-
beats half off, under
the weight of too many
todays, we’d wander
nowhere and there. Any-
where you turned
there’d be a litany
of you and me, churned
into an us of each of us,
two we who learn
nothing because the cup
of our choices
is already filled up
with overflowing voices
of every grace and sin
we’d done or do. Noises
all about. The love we’re in,
in that total lack of silence,
won’t end but won’t begin.