Someone leads me
through my memories
through the hundred
drifting buildings.
On each door
the angel of forgetting
has left a question mark
in pink blood
to guide the elderly.
Through the parted door I see –
the querulous curve
of the cat’s tail
the dot of the puckered
star
the furred beckoning finger
I leave my body in its bed
and take my clues:
a walking stick in the shape
of a pink flamingo,
a question mark
where an angel bit
my upper arm…
I am the puzzles hung on each wall.
Nothing is ever
where I left it.
A glistening red
dentist chair
where there are no answers.
Someone leaves me there.
0 comments:
Post a Comment