When it is said
Coming on to my lips to be
Like a hummingbird singing, like
Torching my heart with fire
Then spoken and gone
Like every sunset, every dawn
Tell me what is to be
It’s a delicate theme to conjure
To have what is said perceived for its meaning
Believed, in the belief of the words
After the moment has sent
Courage to be
Every nerve in the wire of being
Coiled then sprung in boundless undoing
I see the imagery, the shaping
But the clouds on my brow crumple my mouth
Arouse an uncertainty, a fear for innocence lost,
There can be a going on
But this has to be true
Not just a sinking into memory
A fragile heart to endure
What am I to believe
In the everyday world
Is this what is to be
Words August 2019, when what is said cannot be taken back. Photo, Sylvester. Music, Agnes Obel