May 21st, 2008

poetry, exceptindreams

207: Lying

Constance Merritt

awake at 4 A.M.
whatever the space beside you holds
you are yourself alone

and whatever there is of truth
turning in crevices light can't touch
it must be that which wakes you

in a quiet room a woman works
arranging words, a world
where she might live

it changes little day to day
but the mind is changed
as light changes, as the leaves turn

and whatever holds that space inside her
it is so much harder, vaster, colder
than this near mortal, however breathing, however loved.