Friday January 3, 2020
The Illuminated Rumi
Tr. by Coleman Barks
In the oversweat, the pace and panic, the perfect string holding this theory together, you are wishing I was someone else or no one here.
You have said it more than once and maybe I shouldn’t let it get to three…
3 giorni e il pesce puzza…mi dispiace
I believe you when you tell me that this is not rest.
Maybe I gave myself more credit than I deserved to be so wanted.
And I know you do not want my apology. Or the smell of me. Or the restless sleeping. Or the wait and wish of my quiet.
You push me away and one half wants to come closer even still.