sanctus

If I could die tonight, or choose to lay in your arms. I would lay in your arms, my love - though death has been my prayer for all of my life.

“I am writing this to say/I am not leaving you forever/I am going to get better/and then I’ll come home”

I love you, and I am afraid of you, and I will never tell you with my true voice, this slow, serious voice, and sad.  That’s why I write you in a language you do not know. You will never read me and you will never know my love.

“Without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my past was my life. It wasn’t like I didn’t know where all this remembering got you, all that hunger for beauty and astonishing cruelty and ever-present loss.”

“kill me then, slowly, so I may say: I love you more than / I had said before the exodus. I love you. Nothing hurts me, / neither air nor water . . . neither basil in your morning nor / iris in your evening, nothing hurts me after this departure.”

When you wake up from death, you will find yourself in my arms, and I will be kissing you, and I will be crying

When god breathed life into me I am sure I choked on it.

We were together–all else has long been forgotten by me.

Time forks perpetually toward innumerable futures. In one of them I am your enemy.