radfrac_archive_full

Divine Speech

Another thing you don't like:
people who try to speak
the unutterable.

You regret telling the story
of the vision
that moved me.

You tell me you're reading
a book about death
but you won't discuss it.

You won't go into my house
or ask me to yours
or eat food from my hands.

You won't talk about art
the last place
I thought we might be able to meet.

You call me up to go for pints
and talk about how good-looking
you used to be. Always
the same ten pounds,
gaining or losing. How
you used to be cruel
to ugly people.

I can't say
I never thought you were handsome.

I loved you
for the stories you told
for the vision
you wish you hadn't shared
the arc of your body illuminated
like a burning wire
by the infinite rivers
of divine speech.