I'm so tired of being angry.
That rosy flush
You loved so much,
It was just the outward radiance
Of the cauldron I carried,
Ruining my heart from within
Like bloody steak.
But never mind.
I can see that I'm
Upsetting you with my vulgar talk.
You have always loved me better
In a wicker chair on the veranda--
My Japanese fan,
The pillars of the little railing,
And my fingers
All the same harmless white.
I like this, just us two
So quiet, like monsters of the deep, slumbering.
Why did we scold and chatter so,
And why did we go so long never knowing
This opium peace in silence?
Let me hold your hand--
I will kiss it softly,
And I know you will never raise it to me again.
See my bags?
My favorite dancing slippers,
They have waited with the patience of saints.
If seeing them set carefully near the door upsets you,
Just close your eyes,
Pretend it is our wedding night.
We're in love,
And the red stain on the bedding
Looks just like Jesus.
I'm sorry, My Heart,
I must go.
No, I won't be back this time
With my sad smile and sigh,
And my prescriptions
Like small officious doctors themselves.
In anticipation of this moment,
I have made our oak floors shine--
You will have your own image for company
As you always have.
I never want to think of you alone, when I have gone,
So I leave you the ring you gave me
Set carefully on your lapel
Like a butterfly that will stay forever
Where its perch is peaceful,
for dverse poetics