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now thou too must go; just here we part


Thus life has been an endless line of land
receding endlessly.... And so that's that,
you say under your breath, and wave your hand,
and then your handkerchief, and then your hat.
To all these things I've said the fatal word,
using a tongue I had so tuned and tamed
that -- like some ancient sonneteer -- I heard
its echoes by posterity acclaimed.
But now thou too must go; just here we part,
softest of tongues, my true one, all my own....
And I am left to grope for heart and art
and start anew with clumsy tools of stone.
Vladimir Nabokov


the room, the bed


You have the lovers,
they are nameless, their histories only for each other,
and you have the room, the bed, and the windows.
Pretend it is a ritual.
Unfurl the bed, bury the lovers, blacken the windows,
let them live in that house for a generation or two.
No one dares disturb them.
Visitors in the corridor tip-toe past the long closed door,
they listen for sounds, for a moan, for a song:
nothing is heard, not even breathing.
You know they are not dead,
you can feel the presence of their intense love.


 Like Crazy  

We both have our fears


“Behind these things we think of,
All but too deeply,
We both have our fears,
But I have a lighthouse,
These high and mighty white clouds,
Can turn grey all they want,
Because the thought of you,
Would only weigh me down to the ground,
Like that anchor around your neck,
You are the shore I would kiss,
When my heart is a shipwreck”

— Jake Jereza