and say, sit here. eat. you will love again |
the stranger who was your self. give wine. give bread. give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart. take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate notes, peel your own image from the mirror. sit. feast on your life. |
2.
let me take you by the hair
and drag you backward to the light,
spongelike press of my gaze
vacant. quartered. halved. //
hold me like a photographic plate
against you, my enormous question.
what if you cringe, what if you weep ///
suffer this and you need suffer
nothing more. i’ll give you back
yourself at last. to the last part.
i take nothing, only look.
change nothing. have no need to change.
merely to know you and then let go.
