A THOUSAND KISSES DEEP Poem by Stefan Hertmans

Memories, I said, are experiences
That sink in the ooze of your emotions.
A bit far-fetched, you said; and I agreed.

Your fingernails - mother of pearl,
The inside of an oyster shell.
For all the years I know you,
I can't get used to this silent spell.

Do you count syllables when you pray
To gods long since vanished?

Like bream, I said, like bottom fish.
They sink, they sparkle before
An eye in darkness.
Something like that.

Fifty metres at most ahead,
Oh how you walked.
Our kisses deep and out of reach
And, like the years, as dark.