I can't help but be so in love with a man who would find a way to remember, to breathe deep and to remember.
Poem
Every morning I forget how it is.
I watch smoke mount
In great strides above the city.
I belong to no one.
Then, I remember my shoes,
How I have to put them on,
How bending over to tie them up
I will look into the earth.
-Charles Simic
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3 comments:
seriously? like--how did he do that? amazing.
how beautiful. what an amazing poem. like: wow.
also lia, did i tell you that i heard him read in dc? beneath a giant tent on the Mall? it was so lovely.
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