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Screams. I wasn’t listening. No one was. They’re here. They’re screaming.

All is well. Along the bank

        (locative confusion

  the preposition

our standing position

in the manner of I and thou

not what you say but what you mean. 

The way people stand through the streets

stand past them;

how I spoke through your armor, but from which side?)

I held a stone. Held my breath, therefore. Last and first beat among the grey rocks I

preside over that “long scan of waves,”

waves between the rocks 

    (in them, with them)

and between the rocks & light-house waves

light-house and Blawe Bergen, Blue Mountains. Waves

one to another.

Held in & watched her teaching the Wasserstoff, water cloth

let it learn her, taught hydrogen to ripple around

saying herself.

Her or whoever, 

so many speaking– who does it remind you of? I can see her in the waves themselves

don’t extrapolate just be here. Semantic transfers go from the human sphere 

writes “a Dutch linguist.” 

What good is his name. Her Blawe. Just be here

        somehow.

However it is the voice works, sung me here

listen it means, though of course 

      I am blind and deaf

don’t know how to write:

I hold my rock and wait to mean her.

The other side of a word ready to know everything again.