All We Will Not Know
(for Adriana Corral)
Before dawn, trembling in air down to the old river,
circulating gently as a new season
delicate yet in its softness, rustling raiment
of hopes never stitched tightly enough to any hour.
I was almost, maybe, just about, going to do that.
A girl’s thick hair, brushed over one shoulder
so often no one could imagine it not being there.
Hair as a monument. Hovering – pitched.
Beloved sister, maker of plans, main branch,
we need you desperately, where have you gone?
Here is the sentence called No no no no no.
Come back, everything grants you your freedom,
here in the mire of too much thinking,
we drown, we drown, split by your echo.