I tried to record the sea for you:
Bottle the moonlight, pin the wind
To a scarf. I ran the steps,
You would of, had you stayed, from
The beach to the top of the hill.
I drew the castle. I tried the mussel
Recipe the cook at the trattoria gave us.
And as you said you would, I ate it with my hands.
I burned three fingers.
But the pain was nothing to the one
Of your absence: of a world that goes on,
Dancing with the moon, as if you were
Still in it. As if there was any purpose left
After the gods etched the void in my heart, where
Your image used to dance and sing and breathe.
So, I do stupid things. Anything that would
Bring you back to me, even if for a minute,
A second, and instant, your essence, your hair
Fighting with the wind, your smile that went
Beyond your teeth and lighted up all of yourself,
Like a light house in the night, my night, and
After which I was lost no more.
So, I’m recording the sea and bottling
Moonlight and pinning the breeze
To your scarf. I am running
To the hills and burning my hand.
But mostly I am trying to go on
In the vast emptiness,
That without you,
The world and life have become.