Could I love you
Could I love you,
if I had no memory
of breathing skin,
of weight, or time, or matter?
(Close to counting
creases in the sheet
that covers way too much of you)
Perfect as the instinct
and the courage
of the painter’s first
and lasting stroke;
(Wide awake now,
caught by morning lust
and light, I watch)
silent as the forest,
in between the lightning
and the first few swollen drops
of rain to hit the upper leaves:
(I do not touch you, yet
I feel each particle of dust,
caught in fever flight)
Could I love you,
if I had no eyes
to feast upon your flesh,
no words to call you beautiful?
July 19th, 2011 at 4:51 am
Jan, I am just wondering if this is all your personal writing? If so, I think I have just discovered my new personal favorite poet!
The precision of your word-strokes, yet the lightness, and such vivid visual power of most of it is just… captivating for a lack of a better word! Have you published elsewhere, not just in the blog?
July 19th, 2011 at 4:55 am
Ahhh well this is the 4th time I am re-reading this poem already! Mesmerizing… Off to share with the world the gem I found!
August 8th, 2011 at 12:26 am
I am touched by our poem and would like to post it in my blog in the language section. I occasionally publish poetry to refresh the air as I blog about anthropology, politics, and the environment.
I would like to attribute the poem to you but could not readily find your name.
Carlos