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On Saying Goodbye
Relate, relate, resonate:
Do you, too, hear the slow hiss?
It is a puncture, can you relate?
You want to drop the coal; because it burns
You want to drop the bomb; because its blast
Is beautiful, apocalyptic, it cleanses
Its heat splits the hurt evenly between us:
That eclipse – the now dead centre of flames in which
We had lived, loved, laughed, cried and lost
So drop it, drop it, now we drop it
From a height that only the comets can relate to:
Smash and shatter, scatter at our feet behind us.
Are you now walking on the coals as I do?
Are you now penetrating the dark squalls as I do?
A match flames out; we must say goodbye
Our moon has long been waning
Though still, it seems, I breathe in
Your every breathing out. Still, still –
With your finger you replace a smile
Upon my lips it remains, tenderly traced
Oh, my heart has always been such a warm cradle for your life!
My kisses dance on your throat, your pulse leaps and bounds!
And beats, beats and –
Will beat on, long after I am gone:
(But let us dance, just one last time. Let us throw our heads to the sky
as that moon steals our eyes and dance, my baby, dance like this
is not happening. Like this is not real. Ember once so bright, now
fade into night.)
