Monday, March 9, 2009

I don't understand

One day I hope
I will be able to show you
I am alive.

The difficulty is thick,
clods of dirty ice
I long to smash from our hearts.

I do not understand it myself.
And then it bursts upon me like April!
in a single moment which cloisters itself
in my breast.
- a deep and timid secret, it fearfully hates
the callous human intercourse -

It is like being stabbed,
as the hot blood rushes to my face
and pools in my chest.

The small upturned face asks,
"Why are you beautiful?"
And I want to cry:
I am too weak to say,
"Because I love you."

(Cupping your cold heart,
I gently part my lips
and breathe softly,
until I weep with exhaustion.)