Meet Me In Antarctica Poem by Eli Spivakovsky

Here I am listening to the music you sent me. And you are very far away from me and I will never see you, let alone see you again. If you said, 'Meet me in Antarctica.' I would have taken a boat, brought an anorak, a camera, a little prayer book, a change of underwear, and one red balloon (in honour of the film) . And I would have made sure that my boat would meet your boat while Icebergs shatter in the distance and little shavings of ice were floating around us. Then I would throw all my stuff in your boat and climb over myself. I would tell you a beautiful secret, but from a middle-distance it would just look like I was blowing a cloud into your ear. After that I'm not sure. Maybe we would follow whales together. Maybe we would try to find a bit of moss growing on the warmest parts of Antarctica.

What have we got in common? I thought because our hearts are engineered the same way that they would hold the same amount. And you know, they say the heart can actually remember things. That's why when someone has a heart-transplant the recipient can takeon the personality of the donor. So, you see, my heart remembers you. There's a little bit of you in my heart and vice versa. Seeing you is like smelling a beautiful perfume that reminds you of the frangipanis in Hawaii when you were a child.

And I say, 'Weren't we going to save the world together? ' And it does feel that way, seeing you again - even though we never met and I am seeing you for the first time. It does feel that way. As if every country in the world suddenly made peace with each other and extinct animals had been brought back to life and the Ocean was no longer divided up. Of course, right now I can barely remember your Texan accent, but I remember how you never sent me your 'Don't mess with Texas' badge. Then I would have something to hold on to. Instead, I have this little album of songs that you love about a boy called Olias who lives in an Utopia.That's why I see us like this. In a boat at the end of the world. A world we just saved by seeing each other and it changes the world's axis which affects gravity and then stars start to rain down on us. Little pieces of stars. Really gently. As if they've been waiting centuries to touch our skin and it mixes with the little shavings of ice and creates a new compound and we stick our tongues out and it falls on our tongues and it tastes really sweet. I realise that I never bothered to think about how stars would taste. And I say, 'I wonder what they would call this in Japan? '

That's all, really. It was nice seeing your face for the first and last time. We talked on the phone for 5 years and one day I said, 'Raise your right hand in the air now and so will I and it will be like we're touching.' Maybe when I die, they'll transplant my heart and the recipient remembers us together ever so faintly. Like we are characters in a picture book that they read when they were small. Existing and not existing at the same time.