river deep and long and course and strong
it travels down until it no longer does
where one loses the will or gains it
perspective decides between the poles

river or rivers?
branching across the surface
intertwining in a form of
integral, unavoidable dance

it’s clear where the river used to flow
from here and there
they say its bed was a striking ochre
the river is dry these days
fading but unwilling to lose its mark
they say the river used to be beautiful
but now it lies
its path is there
but the current is lacking
the courage is lacking

perspective change to a girl in a bedroom with another
she traces the edges of her body
she traces the lines on her body
she traces and traces and traces
watches how their bodies differ
how they come together
and how they fall apart

how long?
three or four months
when did it begin?
last year
do you still want to?
I think about it

perspective change to a man by the river
shovel in hand
he has a task
maintain the path of the river
if the path is gone and the water comes
his home will be lost
all will be lost

he slips down into the depths of the river’s path
the ground here is tougher than above
a contradiction of the liquid
he brushes his hand against the earth
to find remnants of the river flow
there is little here now
beneath his feet the bed is pale
his hands dry
his hands tough like the path of the river
his hands reek of iron
his hands know more than him

and so red fades to white