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2009 March 1
by constantia

I daydream constantly. Essentially, that’s what I do for a living. Lilith is asleep, so I’m getting some work done tonight. While I was typing, I started thinking about poems that have moved me throughout my life… in particular, poems that make me think of my husband, and how much I love him. And I remembered…

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

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