Jody Azzouni

Poetry

The madness that they say is love

Originally published in Slant XXIX, Summer 2015
Added 7/09/2017
Download PDF

Send in Your Comments

The madness that they say is love

Poem | Jody's Notes

 

Your gestures are flesh,

and you are beautiful

(richer than any language that I’ve ever heard).

 

And yet, when you actually talk,

you believe things that I can’t believe in.

(Are we really meant to be together?)

 

I wander into churches now

(because you do),

not like a demon

(because there are no such things)

but like something from outer space.

 

(In church I always have at least three arms.)

 

When others bow their heads,

when you bow yours,

I pray nothing happens,

and nothing does.

 

Except for an organ

and a lot of murmuring.

 

The stone makes things cool,

the glass makes things dark,

and I try to see what you see,

be what you are.

 

A loose sadness in the air;

because there are things now that are gone.

 

You wonder if I liked the service,

and I take your hands,

squeeze them.

Hope that they move while you are silent.