my favorite poem.....
she loved him all her life
and when she thought that he might die
she tied her wrists to his at night
so that his pulse would not flutter
away from her
suddenly
and leave her
stranded.
the author's name escapes me. i have loved this poem since seeing it tucked away in a margin of my high school's freshman year world lit book. i remember how my soul sunk when i read these words, and i would find myself returning to it for many mid-class daydreams. i have written it and rewritten it in the margins of homework, papers, scribblings and journals.
it is still my favorite. of all time.
i don't know anything about this little story. this little author.
who was he?
was he her lover? an unrequited love? and when she learned of his fate, did she rush to his side? so that he would know that she had always loved him? never forgotten? did he love her still?
was he her devoted husband? did he give her violets on their wedding day? did he make her waffles on sundays? did she raise his babies, all grown now? was he a young man, dying in his prime? or old and wrinkled with a life well lived?
Was he her daddy? was it just the two of them now that their matriarch had passed away? did she remember him promising her sweets before dinner, that she could do anything, the moon and the stars and everything beyond?
sometimes, with better known authors, you can discover these trinkets of information...but i have never tried. i like not knowing. i like to imagine....
she is old and weathered.
sitting at his bedside. white walls. white linen. white flowers at his side.
she lays with her grayed head on his chest, and her thin, delicate fingers interlaced with his. she is holding tightly. so tightly.
a fine red thread wrapped three times and tied at their wrists...
it doesn't matter so much who the man is to her. their love is otherworldly. i always imagine this the same. the same way, every time.
i have many otherworldly loves of my life. my great loves. i imagine that i will do the same as this woman, tethering their souls to mine, for as long as they will have it. to never be alone. to never be stranded.
and when it is time for them to leave, i imagine that my pulse will slow with theirs, thready and weak. and we can go together, peacefully and quiet into the light. with hearts full, and long lives well lived.
what is your favorite poem?
