Today I will watch a movie...
on the world looking away.
Today i will watch a movie that sounds like soft light from a spring window, a soft light that falls on bathroom tile, on shining stainless steel, it will sound like a soft light and i will listen, i will witness a hum of bird song through soft light, a song of wind in the trees in this soft light, i have soft light to gaze upon, i hear of harsh orange, of crumbled windows that hold no gaze, entirely emptied they hold no light, light is caught in dirt in debris is thick smoke in fire soft light turns opaque and hard soft light cools on hardened skin on open wounds on harsh red soft light rips open mouths they scream in heaven song in loss in martyrdom there is no soft light, only massive weight, deep black, razing ochre to collapsed brown, new image of those who will never return, new image of mothers of fathers of guardians of protectors weeping over soft babies with hardened eyes and skin. And soft light is no saviour or adequate rememberer, soft light can not re-assemble and can not repent, soft light does not forgive in its quiet in its peace there is screaming over the wall, there is death over the wall, there is history obliterated over the wall, soft light washes out the tang in my food, soft light denies the bite in my drink a cultural annihilator soft white should remind of that sound that ringing in behind the soft light that suffering covered up, that genocidal omission in soft light in light writing a memory will erase it.
