Every day when men, birds, and animals
Plod back home eagerly at sunset
I drive from home far to that city,
A city of horns, sirens, and screams
To listen to a lost voice, in the silence—
A city without a sound without the sound
Of that sweet living voice. A city I hated once.
Absence viscerates the heart
And stuffs it with emptiness. Full and heavy,
So conspicuous, so torturous—working out
A slow, stretched-out death, my bones aching with love
The best death for love ever.
Where does all that go? Time, all of it?
Why did it leave me, at the same coordinates
But with a run of new faces, new buildings, new names—
All turning strange before my own eyes?
Just old memories fresh like it’s always spring!
The best death for love ever. Worthless now!