Newton’s Cradle

Newton’s Cradle

There’s people
I have loved
Still love, even
Letters stop
Care packets thin
Almost to nothing too
And yet
I still remember loving
 
Frantic in love,
the desperate loving of
a broken fast, a cup,
ginger, sharp-sweet,
like being small and trying
to read as much as possible 
before the light—
 
I’d have another prism if you’re asking;
Without refractions, though,
Or I’ll be up all night.
 

 

Le peintre et les mariés aux trois couleurs – Marc Chagall
you never call, you never write...

(get in touch!)
you never call, you never write...

(get in touch!)