My heart could easily be turned into lead.
You wouldn’t want it to.
You’d tell me to snap out of it.
To not drown in the waves of your choice,
The aftermath, see it as all-engulfing, all-crippling,
You drag me out of the mud that you’d dissociate
From me, from us, I don’t know, where were the roots,
Attached to you, attached to what, now, from where,
Are they cut off or still growing, nothing disorientates
Me more than the black hole of languagelessness.
My brain is showing me the images of your steps
Less and less, the vicious circle, the carousel
That didn’t let me go, the reduction of intensity,
You will sit through this, you will look at it,
Walk with him, look at him, speak to him, hold him, let go,
I look at your trousers now and think this isn’t me,
I look at your objects without getting a jolt to the heart,
I care, I take care, I take of them, honouring you,
My brother’s life, my brother’s death, I am reconciling.
Croque-Melpomene 