I´ll make a lond sentence, springy and spacious,
and wrap everything in, everything I meet –
that morning mood of yours, the bred, the children´s
and the lead bullet that melts in a word or two, after all.
I´ll make a long sentence, long, and let it carry its body,
so even if I don´t know its meaning, not a word –
I´ll know your ringless ear., the silver of your breath,
and beyond the horizon I´ll discern the lines on your palm.
That sentence´s shine scents, weights. And the shock
when some friend wanders off into the silence.
The sentence´s trails and peaks, the love of looking
when our great task fits into one look.
And I´ll go through you, the words will fill and light will
as today too our thousand-year-old seconds explode –
I´ll gather the fragments of you from earth to heaven,
I´ll suck your blood from my fingers when I wrote.