Box

 

Box

Words words words. I hear but don’t get them. Their words, not mine. But how could It be theirs if I use them too, exactly them, the same words, letters, order they the same, but I’m sure they are theirs. It sounds ridiculous, innocuous, too, it doesn’t even sound, groans, I wish I were deaf at times, but deafness I feel. Reading derails It, I read their voices, their opulent, fraudulent voices, their adapted voices, I can’t read, all I can do is hear but I’m deaf, completely deaf, lost my right ear and I’m losing the left, too, no ears at all, but yet I hear, I hear them clearly, words in line, one by another, I see them naked, their words, all of them.

I’m digging a hole in the ground and I’m shoveling words up, this that mine yours you he she love lunch life all being shifted above, thrown somewhere, deposited anyplace, and no one misses It. I find myself, me, actually, standing under the ground, around land, maybe it’s sand, sand in land, gross, the color is between black and grey, and I hear nothing, read nothing, feel nothing, just silent. The words, one by one, jump back In, life lunch love she he you yours, not in that order, no, actually in no order, they come all together, these and all the other words, words of all, all of them all. There’s something about them now, something different, their legs are curled. I can feel, the letters detach, they form different words, I say – my words! – not as an owner, but as a state. Touch them, feel them. Deafness.

Digging over. No, I’m still here, sitting, with many incessant trumpets gibbering around, yapping, just hands that write, fingers who (?) type, but yes, I do not understand It, but perceive It, it’s definitely there, knowing it’s definitely there I don’t need to know, there’s nothing to know, knowing is nothing but itself.

Back to the cave, from the cave to the ground, from the ground to sounds, to words, to meaning, to reason, and the end has to be deafness, at least to real, what’s actually real, words? In the cave I can see there’s something behind them, behind the letters, picking each one with my own hands, some asperous feeling, more than words, what’s that I ask them, all they know is words words words, one after another, meaning something, saying something, killing something, inventing something, no, not inventing, or yes, definitely inventing, but not something, something is real and real is beyond, only silent, only only, only alone, lonely, one can truly hear.

In the womb possibly then was the place, but yet there was nothing, yet it’s everything, all there is, words could be touched, truly there, truthful, a smile perhaps, a smile when you heard it first, smile, did you know already? Knowing is secondary, it’s better perceiving. Mama papa love smile, your lips touching to say them, yet no voice, no space, no sounds, deafness again, good deafness, the walls retreat the sounds, the walls repeat the sounds, the sounds stay in the wall, yet they keep up with you, lips touch to m, to p, too, the a comes naturally, you can do It, but not now, now is the womb, the womb is you, too, everything around you is you, that long, thick collar, don’t put it around your neck, no! Keep it in there as long as you can, more words will come, in the womb they might be yours, or maybe hers, but if it’s hers it’s yours, yet it shouldn’t be. What’s yours is yours, hers is hers. All of the words they know are hers, they listen through her ears, nothing is actually theirs, her ears are also not hers, but her hers, and so on, her her ear is her her hers, and forever on, no one owns It, the words are gone.

How long is it in the womb? They say nine, but I say forever. Can’t know If what comes out is what was in, the same, exactly the same, it starts and ends there, only lonely alone, you eat, you sleep, you you, then a light comes, white light, and you are out, but you are not you no more, the hands touch you and you don’t know hands. They ask can I grab him – what? Grab? The thick collar gets cut, but at that first moment, what’s there to know? From immaterial to material, from silence to turbulent noisy screaming crying, from you to the world, that pain of being a part of the entire, do I look like this? Mirrors, yet you can’t see you there, who’s you, who’s they, can I rush back to the darkness, to the true cave, the words were all there, I knew them all, smile, papa, lips, touch! I will say them inside, I will scream them inside! But there’s no turning back, you have to face the light, the entire room feels light – what’s a room, yet you know you are in a room –, mama papa they say, but here your lips don’t touch, you don’t know what lips are, it’s tears tears tears, at least they taste nice, salty, salty tears, saucy tears, could be served with the collar, but where’s the collar, in a box perhaps, envy It, a box, look at It, can I go to a box, too?

Go on, move forward, keep growing, become this, become that, become you, a lot of becomings, but who asked, it was better there, there was no becoming, just being, being full, eating and sucking and licking and living, no bother just space, your space, truly yours, not truly a space at all but it was, now it feels tight, all else presses in, up, down, sideways, you compress, hands touching you, good hands, better than air, perceive the touch, wall, want more, it’s want or no want and no want wins most of the time, tears come often to say them, tears more efficient than words, tears are words of your own, so tears all around for everything – food touch space air light kiss mama papa, tears say tears, yet there’s all there is to say. What what what they ask, look at this thin glimmer of water in my face and you know what. See it traveling down the cheeks to neck, chest to belly, until my tiny, a point they say, but it’s usual, it’s normal, normal size, enough to stop the tears, wet, everyone touches me everywhere but there, it must be really wet.

Papa comes first, that smile, you see his teeth and you do the same, teeth to him too! And his teeth appear even more after you show yours, but you have no teeth. You remember It. Tears come out and papa gets scared, cheeks back in place, what happened, I have no teeth, I have nothing, what is having? Mama is laid down, mama and papa are so happy, they must be mama and papa, holding me, close to each other, love is a word but first its felt, such as air, it’s in the room, those teeth seem made out of love, they are so strong and fixed, rooted there actually, a tree must be like this, the collar was a root, these teeth are new, where’s mama? Mama must be there, don’t see you mama! Appear now! There’s a voice in the back of my head, thinner, lighter, more beautiful than papa’s, it has tears on It. You see it’s like you, tears talk for them too, but no one’s asking what what what, they know, they know the tears, so their tears must be a word, yet no, there are no letters, just water, you try to turn your head, you can’t, too small, pinched into some sort of towel, womb again? You wish! Papa grabs you and turns, easy to mess with you, so light, and you see mama for the first time. Her face is an ocean, her body is hurt, she can barely move, but her arms get long and she touches you; brings you to her, you feel her water, her water feels your water, it’s the same water.

No, It can’t be, remember, her her hers, your your yours, yet can’t remember, just you and mama, ocean, teeth, womb, this is it, you in there again, now with light, no walls, it’s still there, forever you are there. You found your box.