dissolving in to nothing

what do i believe?
is not always what i believe.
two shots down and you were hanging
over the water on a broken limb -
you looked like you were going to fall,
but the water would have caught
you gently in its bed;
you, friend of foxes,
did you keep yourself sane?

we rolled over and in to each other,
your arms caught me in motion,
brevity relaxed to meet infinity.
you know how to keep me quiet.
in the middle of chaos -
when everyone is screaming,
we are silent, breathing entities:
we are the poplar surrounded by honey bees -

honey, let them buzz all
they feel necessary.
they speak without proof towards
things they will never understand.
isn't that our big question,
anyway?
when did they learn everything?

more importantly -
when did we?
do you remember december?
we were so cold we felt isolated in our bodies.
you put your arm around my waist,
and we looked like iridescent statues;

cafe con leche, you'd say.
isn't that always what we are?
statues of humans, mixed
in colors, mixed only
enough to keep us from

engaging in bloody warfare?
outside, only still lives
of arranged pottery;
an empty

ashtray,
a crystal bowl
of nothing,

a placid, dead
sea -

who are we to know anything?