Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Jaime Saenz

High Above the Dark City
One night on a rain-glistened road high above the dark city
with its noise now distant
it's certain she will sigh
I will sigh
holding hands for a very long time within the grove
her eyes clear as the comet passes
her face come from the sea her eyes in the sky my voice inside her voice
her mouth in the shape of an apple her hair in the shape of a dream
in each pupil a look never seen
her eyelashes in a trail of light a torrent of fire
everything will be mine somersaulting with gladness
I'll cut off a hand for each of her sighs
I'll gouge out an eye for each of her smiles
I'll die once twice three times four times a thousand times
just to die on her lips
with a saw I'll cut through my ribs to hand her my heart
with a needle I'll draw out my best soul to give her a surprise
on Friday evenings
with the night air singing a song I propose to live for three hundred years
in the loveliness of her company.

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