1. The Other Side of the Wall
They love it despite the pains
Call them sweet dear pains—
Yes, love makes the fire a lover’s tongue
The cuts, a lover’s nail scratches.
I am silent—nobody would understand what I say
Or agree with me. And I don’t care to win people,
I love my own bowl of silence. I’ve stopped talking,
I just think in my echoing silence.
What’s there in the city worth so much of noise
I can’t get like whispers in a foreign tourist restaurant,
Beyond mixed smiles, mild flirtations, and suspicious gazes?
It seems I share no basics with them
Beyond those fragments of strange fragile familiarity—
My fire is their ice, their orgasm my pain…
I tear my way through the wall
Breaking some hearts, freezing some tears
They always complained I always spoke a too difficult language.
One last hammer strike, and then
a swallowing silence!
Flowers fall into the pit, and they pray
For a poor good sinner from the depth of their hearts.