A Simple Sort of Poem
When I kiss you
I kiss my suffering
When I say your names softly I am saying mine
When I weep with you
I am also drunk off love
When I touch you
I touch that which I have dedicated the whole of my life
You are goodness’s daughter
You are the truth that calls to me
This book is not written for me
not really for you
but more for you than me
but for neither of us really
And now,
I don’t even remember the book of which we were speaking
