NaPoWriMo - day eighteen

diagnosis

all of me loves all of you

most of me loves most of you

some of me loves some of you

perhaps we might invent a new way

of measuring love. what scale

would we devise? we could

weigh all the words: forever,

undying, fealty, mine, yours.

we could test their health,

poke and prod them until they cry out,

until they carry their bruises with pride,

until their repetition tattoos your skin

with promises. we could document

the process – the causes and symptoms –

and track your progress

one word at a time. perhaps

we might find a cure

for all that ails us, for all that

makes us heartsick

and lovelorn. no more

wandering the empty halls

afraid of infection,

letting the words insert themselves,

measuring the distance

between embraces.

A Parable by Gregory Orr - NPM18

The stone strikes the body, because

that is what stones will do.

The wound opens after the stone's kiss,

too late to swallow the stone.

The wound and the stone become lovers.

The wound owes its life to the stone

and sings the stone's praises.

The stone is moved. At the stone's center,

a red hollow aches to touch the wound.

The gray walls of its body tear open

and the wound enters to dwell there.

A strangers picks up the stone

with the wound inside and carries it

with him until he dies.

Orr, Gregory "A Parable" Burning the Empty Nests. Pittsburgh: Carnegie Mellon University Press, 1997. 70.