In naked flight
             beyond the rigid dawn
                       we run
          headlong,
        helter-skelter,
     laughing,
down into swimming beds,
            smothered in creeping birdsong
                   and the screech of crickets.
          The sun announces itself
         as a rush of blood
              behind clouds
                   smearing the sky with unused words.
      Wine stings in our stomachs
            sings from our tongues
               steeps our dreams in wonder.
   There is so much to learn from lack of understanding;
               so much to unlearn.
                    Words are merely fragments
                    in a crazy jigsaw –
                just one method.
     Eyes also speak
              as does the brief,
            alarming swish of fingers
                         over unknown flesh.
     Gestures plummet through the heart
                                   and rise screaming,
                               plunge knives
          deep into cragged hills
              and will not remove them,
   will not let them speak.

There is nothing to stop us
    becoming one nation
         under a livid sky
               except words,
          and the hunger
               of our numb and usual selves,
               which we can lose
            or forget

          if we are given time.

© Adam Horovitz