I suppose death is something
our bones are born knowing, and
no matter how much you truly love yourself,
it's a secret they will never tell your heart.
And I guess time is best measured
by the length of my hair-
and while the body
of such immense invisibility is
so very infinite,
I can count the days quite accurately
by the names
of every lover still hiding in there.
And I think that all of this is somewhat
a useless nonsense-
but it's beautiful because
it's all we have.
One day while we wait in line at a coffee shop,
the world will end- or maybe
I'll just assume it's the world when actually
it'll just be my sails empty of wind,
and the beating in my chest replaced
with a a sign that reads: 'no vacancy' -
On that day,
at that very moment,
if the world has not slipped away
into the second circle of Dante's hell,
let it remember it was you I loved the most.
This s such a wonderful piece, Amberlee. At first the opening line had me feeling doubtful, but this poem of the perception of what is the world and the blurring of the line between the outside and the personal worlds is quite excellent. There were moments of T.S. Elliot in there but they were not ale imitations.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem finding beauty and death in love and lovers.