August 20, 2010
By Marlee_Writes GOLD, St. Louis, Missouri
Marlee_Writes GOLD, St. Louis, Missouri
13 articles 0 photos 0 comments

She’s been chewing the same piece of gum for hours,
Drinking stale-tasting water from a chipped coffee mug,
Wearing his shirt—
<i>Feeling, thought, will, consciousness…</i>
W-w-wearing his shirt,
Over her sweatpants,
No shoes.

He has carved her,
I-into his own,
Whittled away layers of self and skin,
Uncovering the bone,
Pulling off her—
<i>There are no eyes, no ears, no nose, no tongue</i>—
Pulling off her l-lips,
Her dress,
He is blowing the cigarette smoke in her face,
Watching her cough,
G-g-growing inside her,
Injecting, intoxicating,
Injectingintoxicating her,
<i>There is no attainment of wisdom, and no wisdom to attain. </i>

It d-d-doesn’t mean what you think it does,
Empty is interrelated,
A state in which nothing exists purely it itself,
If you were to pick her,
Pluck her from her branch,
S-stop his destruction,
She still wouldn’t be safe,
She’s from him,
He’s in her,
A collar around her heart,
Body is empty empty is body exactly is body and empty,
She’s from the mirror she stands before every m-m-morning,
Begging things to be different,
Hoping for a ticket west or just to finally understand the sutra,
Screaming <i>gaté, gaté</i>,
Gone, Gone,
Be gone when I get up.

<i>There is no ignorance,
And no end to ignorance.
There is no old age and death,
And no end to old age and death. </i>

When she walks the streets surrounding the apartment,
The young artist sees her,
From behind the wall of g-g-glass,
The window,
The coffee shop window,
He cups the shape of her,
Of her stringy hair,
Of her dingy scarf, fringe fluttering in a wind she doesn’t feel,
He cups these things in his hand,
Captures them with his pencil,
Smudges them with the darkened p-pad of his thumb,
Pulls them in tighter.
He doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know about the other He.

<i>It is the clearest mantra,
The highest mantra,
The mantra that removes all suffering</i>.

And now she’s taking a walk out the window,
But she left the mug of water,
S-s-sitting on the table,
Ripples rioting against the curved walls of their enclosure,
Lip of liquid shaking,
Eventually settling.
That cup,
That girl.
Both full,
But, God,
So empty.

<i>All things are empty:
Nothing is born, nothing dies,
Nothing is pure, nothing is stained,
Nothing increases and nothing decreases. </i>

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