Sunday, April 20, 2014

20/30: The dictionary of obscure sorrows

Because what can I write about you that has not already
been written?  The loving of you creates within me myriad
obscure sorrows.  Vellichor: You are an antique bookstore, all
dustsmell and ancient knowledge, and I am sitting in the floor
in the middle, hopeless in knowing I can never
read all you contain.  Onism: I hate every other body
that has known yours before I could.  Hate every
past lover who took your body inside theirs, hate your mother
who carried you first, who nursed you at her breast
decades before you touched mine with a newborn's
wonder.  Mahpiohanzia: because no matter how hard I try
I cannot make this body jump up and fly through the air
around the globe to be with yours.  Aimonomia: If I know
your good name, in its entirety, might you cease
to exist altogether?  Nementia: There are times of the day
I can taste you on the tip of my tongue but can't remember
how you got there.  Gnossienne: because you
are a house with so many rooms I will never
explore them all.

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