every day I wonder where you are, I
look out over this endless black ocean
and the rage of waves that took you
this gathering of tears, tastes of salt
and the lingering hint of continuance
the very air carries a memory of you
where you've gone I long to be, daily
and since you cannot come back to me
meet me, when tide peels slowly back
in that misty place of in-between, among
a dark garden of limpets, listening, and
limp-limbed anemone, mussels and salt
where the moon rests, finally undistilled
meet me, and with your cold pale arms
embrace he that was your husband once
let shadow take the form of water, rise
where strange things writhe in the light
and shell and stone cut my living feet
let me hold you, let me hold you once more
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem