And Her Soul Out Of Nothing

Perhaps By Then You Will No Longer Be In Love

Perhaps By Then You Will No Longer Be In Love Although you have betrayed him in a dream, you have betrayed him, and the infidelities of sleep will change you: you will find yourself suddenly in love with the two young women outside your window whose voices and laughter fell groundward with last winter's snow. You will begin to think: I am beginning to move among them. But only you will be wearing a snap-brimmed hat. When the knock comes, it will knock a certain reticence. It will leave your door covered in white-knuckles. And the windows will no longer breathe, they will die like paintings. And you will no longer be worrying the stars into meaning, they will already mean something, but that will only be the wind, only the wind that will be keen and keening. All else will remain hidden and nameless. By which I mean: your soul. By which I mean you will begin by missing 77 your old sadness, that old country: a country fielded in rye. And a strange sore will just then start to form underneath your tongue. You will always find yourself being unfaithful to someone. You will always be gathering something from the landscape without poems: then, finally, winter, to once again thin things out, down to those two women's voices. And their laughter, their laughterfalling with the new snow? Perhaps by then you will no longer be in love. Your infidelities will have changed you. ...