Singular

I lean slightly to better hear your staring.
Water behind me, an entire earth
sings to bridge my body back
toward why my stillness is a
death of mirrors renaming
prophecy to include all
bodies, all skeletal winds.
The blue surrounding my eyes’
center, a single syllable
spelling the wetness of
each days’ unobstructed
hearsay. Listening is how
I recall you. Forgetting is
how my hearing isolates
your staring