No More Words

when I fall in love I will stop writing.

just watch, two eggs

devour oil in a pan

melting into each other

until the abstract whites

become a circle

when I see the news I will stop writing

and finally see tents burning

choke on my cappuccino

burning a silent tongue

sleeping full, belly up

while the children, the children

when I die I will stop writing

buried in unfinished pages

let them rot. leave it, fertile space,

just fertile space, sense memory

of your gaze that night

“say something.”

“what is there to say?”