My love, I would like for you to be sad
in my absence, wandering among thorny regions,
miserable, drowning in dry leaves,
picking little stone to throw at noisy birds and children.
My love, I would like for you to be lonely,
lying by yourself, feeling the enormous night
close around you with it’s monstrous hands,
not knowing what to do with your breasts,
your thighs that ache with longing for my touch.
My love, I would like to see you wallow
in a swamp of guilt, eating worms,
cursing the stones of your heart
that are unmoved by my songs,
my sweet songs of despair.
My love, I would like to see you sit silently
among friends and strangers,
sipping at the cup of indifference,
with no stories to share,
with no desire to leave or arrive.
I would like for you to become angry, irritable
at things that once turned your blood
orange and green, not knowing why or how.
I would like for you to become crazy, like me,
talking to yourself,
laughing at things you should cry,
walking around like a corpse,
heavy with memories, dead without hope.
My love, I would like for you to be sad, so that I know.
so that I know you loved me
as I loved you, with bones, with blood,
with wings of stone, with broken mirrors,
with a heart that beat like thunder.
This poem is part of the Poetry Book Oblivion