The Unconscious Echo
Cinder Well
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Like the house recalls sounds of the previous haunter Memory takes up dwelling in the body Beyond the happens of the days, what was unseen and unlived The body holds the sounds of the past they keep echoing The house holds the sound of the past they keep echoing The disembodied dwelling in the house made of wood The creaking in the walls, the smell you want to know The oil in the lamp stand it keeps burning The body holds the sounds of the past they keep echoing Some of us dream of boats and some of fire The sound within the womb, a yelling in the veins The coursing and the pain, the unconscious echo My body holds the the gas chambers The trains, the killing mound The evictions and the hiding, and the cracks in the wall Distorted by no findings of anything at all Save the whole burning And the cold concrete Your body held the echo of your own breath Where do they go now that you’ve become pollen in the air? Do I hold them for you until mine stops containing me? Do I hold them or somehow will they unchain me?
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