this enormous language fills my mouth
i stumble frantic over simplicities
this world has been worn blind sacred smooth
and in its emptiness, her thousand elaborate machines
tick intricate in gorgeous symphony.
my tongue is ponderous huge
i want to speak to you
but instead what falls from my throat
is the rasping tuning of strings.
you are salt-stiff. we both bleed and ache.
you sit. you unpack your case, carefully, lovingly.
you, who I have loved.
you, lover of the duende of voices cracked with sorrow
you, who will be left to serenade the world in its dying sun
you, who will be left to play the post-apocalyptic violin
you, who will be left to mourn for all of us,
lift your bow, and the sweet, terrible notes of your agony
billow over the city, raw as velvet.
