Thread
The arrow strikes its goal,
the tip pierces the ground
I've met my intimate love -
following, my mind pursues her.*
- Tsangyang Gyatso, 6th Dalai Lama
Turning back, she hears the last atoms
of his voice, still dropping past the hollow
in her ear. When she sees the words
he's spoken, letters across the blinks
in her eyes, she can walk in silence
down streets populated with noise.
An onlooker would see a solitary
woman, but she - and he - see
an iridescent thread sewing
their thoughts together.
*translation from Tibetan by Annie Bien
Annie Bien
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