(after the painting by Salvador Dalí,
1935)
You think you know me
But you don’t
Any more than you know your self
I am so many things
More than the sum of my parts.
I am flesh
Wood
The shell of an egg.
My solitude is stone.
I am you, your echo, bone
Earth air water and fire
Flow through my veins
As silent as the mist
There are no trees
Where I dissolve into the crags
And crevices
Becoming one with you
I am alone along the precipice.
Not even the mountain has a name
Nor do I.
deuce coupe 