Forgetting the Point

There is no point reaching back
into the shadows
where rust pierces
the skin on the tender
pad of the foot
and renders your
flourish of activity
toward healing
gone.

The shadows of that place
where everyone screams
is there in your sleeping
and disturbs even the silence
of dreaming.

Yet another language doesn't matter.
Another reason for living
in this moment
is only an excuse
for not believing
you are good enough
to be healed
and the reason
to simply touch the face
or rest hands palm to palm
with that much
sweetness--
speak from that place
where everything is
forgotten.