How
do you write about
red and blue,
not really blue
but a pale bluish purple
like the flowers
in the branches above me
and my red, red, blood red skirt,
floating over
petals scattered beneath my feet,
around the ancient iron bench
where I sit in stillness
my heart pounding
my breath dancing
in and out
motionless
as I run vertical cobbled pyramid stairs
and eat handmade
tamales out of banana leaves
and sip tequila
without moving a muscle…
How
do you write about
what is in the body,
in the place
where no words can fit
into the flow of veins
and tissue that bend and sink
all the while rising
in aloneness, in solitude
as the masses pulse
around
and around you
in a never ending swirl,
a dance that leaves you in the place
between breathing,
in and out
a movement never encountered before
endless
even in beginning…
How
do you write about
red and blue
and the place where no words
live…

Lea Goode-Harris
March 26, 2006
Mexico, Merida & Oaxaca, March 2006