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[thetasteless.livejournal.com]

The Thing Is
by Ellen Bass


To love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.


--

Didn't see this in the tags, though that could be unreliable, I'm pretty sure this hasn't been posted recently.

Comments

[los-fantasmas.livejournal.com]

i like this.

[alwaysashipper.livejournal.com]

This is beautiful, thanks for posting.

[eyjane.livejournal.com]

"its tropical heat thickening the air, heavy as water more fit for gills than lungs". brilliantly sharp observation.

[teithiwr.livejournal.com]

This is one of my favourites. ♥

[aimlesswanderer.livejournal.com]

I like it but the simile "crumbles like burnt paper in your hands," killed it for me. Strong ending though.

./w

[mary-br.livejournal.com]

Beautiful. Simply beautiful <3

[maiden-heart.livejournal.com]

love the ending. beautiful

[eranim.livejournal.com]

When I was in high school I would write this poem on desks and on the end pages of library books. I ardently believed that it would find the people who needed it and somehow change their lives.

I probably just irritated whoever had to clean the desks but this poem still brings me to my knees.

[hidden-tugboats.livejournal.com]

i needed this poem like i need castor oil. i really didn't want to be in the position to need it, but oh, it made me feel better. thank you.