Thursday, April 21, 2005
From Elsewhere, With Love
The secrets to our love
Lie in clues hidden under ice.
Words on paper written in Latin
Curses etched in copper,
folded and thrown into springs.
The springs must have frozen over.
When the sun comes out years
from now and a million tourists
shed their coats and scarves
I'll find you swimming in the river.
We'll ignore the art of war and
nouns of the sixth declension
and you'll play music, laughing at me
like the blonde American woman
who once cooked the most
delivious food you ever tasted.
Lie in clues hidden under ice.
Words on paper written in Latin
Curses etched in copper,
folded and thrown into springs.
The springs must have frozen over.
When the sun comes out years
from now and a million tourists
shed their coats and scarves
I'll find you swimming in the river.
We'll ignore the art of war and
nouns of the sixth declension
and you'll play music, laughing at me
like the blonde American woman
who once cooked the most
delivious food you ever tasted.
