Tuesday, September 22, 2020

old story

  by franz wright, from walking to martha's vineyard

first the telephone went,
then
the electricity.
 
it was cold,
and they both went to sleep
as though dressed for a journey.
 
like addictions condoned
from above evening 
fell, lost
 
leaves waiting 
to come back as leaves---
the long snowy divorce. . . 
 
that narrow bed, a cross
between an altar
and an operating table. voice
 
saying, while i was alive
i loved you.
and i love you now.

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