Letter from Austin to Lydia
Date: October 30, 1997.
This is for you that broke away from love.
It is not very hard to believe that our intimacy is now far. We were not naive when we started but we were young but we knew what we were doing, I'm sure we did. I still can not forget the day at the basement where we looked so straight into our eye for so long; I wanted to count stars in your eye, I felt I needed to pick it. In lieu of that, I was interested at counting the number of times you'll blink/wink your eye and I, darling Lydia, I told you I lose count. Because you said you cannot stare into my eye for so long because you'll make a quicker blink/wink no matter how serious you want to seem because you are afraid, you're afraid of the connection; and we can just osculate after a long look. But that day, your confession did not matter. I remember. How we held hands together and walked to the park. You said you do not want me to carry your bag for y…
we only know how to define death:
sadness. black dress.
plaintive hymn of appreciation
on a sunday morning. to god be the glory.
a mud running on the face.
a hanging image, like a chain of web —
on the corner, adjacent the mirror of the room.
say the dead lives on,
say the dead never die.
say a sorrow is running
like a river. like a tiny thing.
a sorrow so tiny, that makes you
forget how ugly you look when you cry.
say death is the only hope of man,
that life is for memories
of our dead.