Wednesday, 2 March 2011

non omnis moriar

these empty rooms,
if they were to break
into a thousand tiny pieces
would fit into my cupped hands
and i would eat.
the way diego consumed frida.
in death and life. burning.

and the root-fingers torn
from the shifting ground would cling
somewhere that wasn't mine
leaving all that was
to speak in a language
lacking ambiguity.

the sun would crown
your noble head as it always did
beneath a changing sky
whose clouds are forever
in conspiracy with feelings.

and if not now
then looking back we'd know
the dancing was exquisite.


"non omnis moriar"
(i shall not completely die)
~ attributed to horace

1 comment:

Timo said...
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