“Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake
and dress them in warm clothes again.
How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running
until they forget that they are horses.
It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,
it’s more like a song on a policeman’s radio,
how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days
were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple
to slice into pieces.
Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it’s noon, that means
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.
These, our bodies, possessed by light.
Tell me we’ll never get used to it.”
I love this poem because it has a more abstract meaning with lots of visual and sensory descriptions. Reading this poem makes me taste fresh cut apples and cold lips. Every word is like a clue, a little piece of a bigger picture.
" the horses running until they forget that they are horses" God I love that line.