Conversations (IV) — to Dylan Thomas

Conversations (IV) — to Dylan Thomas

It’s because I love my love can’t be cut
Like a river by rocks, bent branches swift

Over stone misshapen or promises broken
On swerve. Because I love I love this soul alone

And am given immunity against the foamy drift,
And the heart’s wheel’s rims to resist the rut,

The charter to tax all the pennies of loss,
The unplanted ghost come off the cross.

Conversations (II – to a headache)

Conversations (II – to a headache)

You promise you will never leave me.
All day I have been trying to locate grief

And all day you have been trying to convince me
Grief and pain are the same.

If grief leaves me I will know
I have lost something vital to happiness.

So keep your promise and leave
The one I love. I’ll keep you here on call

Like a substitute teacher outside
An empty room you’ll never see.