I cannot tell you the truth

unspeakable unknowable
unbind my eyes my fears my lips

I am not an artist
I am not a tiger, not a pirate
these itchy, idle hands
cannot paint what I feel

I might hope
for an accidental moment
a solar explosion
that magnetic dipolar attractions
would order these lines
before the crumpled papers splattered with words
gather ‘round my feet like dead birds

I cannot tell you the truth
for it is not mine to tell
the sky folding and unfolding
churns these sheets to the wind
I am turning in the fluttering pages
of my own selfish wishes
my hands cover my face
so they will not cut my eyes
they have not seen
my eyes have not seen that brilliant light
which shone inside me on a far horizon
but for a fleeting moment
(oh so brief, how my heart nearly tore away from me
had it not been for my hard bones
holding it trapped inside its cage)

I cannot tell you the truth
how could it be told
if I said one thing one word one smear of paint
one holy grain
I am not a savior

not a slave
to language to lust to mathematical abstraction
to strains of Coltrane melting through my skin
my body is a silvery sphere infinitely thin waves of music
radiate within the limitless blue metal taste solemn refrain
to love?
the sun sweeps a galactic year
what vintage these tears
distilled in time

I cannot tell you the truth
it would be telling too much
I will recreate myself in the moment
or revert to last save reformat the page
these words only filigrees of black and white
absorbing not absorbing light
little refractions from my chiaroscuro
that which I would have you see

I am slow I am slow I can’t wrestle my foot free
from the rocks where it is lodged in the deep slow
moving water my bruised and useless foot shimmering green
below as current rushes past distance mass over time
through me rushing when I was young I had a recurring dream
swimming alone I would dive down into the cool
water would close my eyes savoring would draw
a long deep watery breath filling my lungs alive
like blue sky
some people dream of flying

I cannot tell you the truth
even as it touches me
summer’s first warm night of insistent breezes
wet with promise and memory
beautiful dark secrets whisper to my cells
my organelles mitochondria stir in understanding
simple in their ways of glowing
my heart is full my head unknowing
I am drawn to the light in everything
If I had a word
which when spoken
pierced the call of hearts broken
tears of joy and love of child
awe of nature fierce and wild
I would hold you close so close inside
and as I faintly breathe its sound
we become the universe expanding

I cannot tell you the truth
I am not the center of anything
but my own entropy
the physicists search for the elusive quark
up down charm and strange
would truth by any other name
allow herself to be discovered
life is short and uncertainty wide
blessed be
cry for us all
Beauty