JONATHAN ENDURANCE
All I Crave is Intrinsic Peace
when i say my body is a parquet
littered with bones, i mean everything
i once knew is dead & what remains
is the fire you left behind.
in the garden, i mistake the redness
of roses for your breath—which
means i hallucinate about our pastime--
& when i touch the lilies by their necks
i realize how much of a shadow
you have become.
your absence: a flickering candle light
whose ray burns best in the darkest of day
which means i carry your absence like
a language left untranslated.
grief is an ageless animal. it’s months
since the ocean swept your remains
to shore, & here i am waiting
for the rain to wash off the bloodstains.
this body: an ignorant child to the touch
of grief. a crossroad between loss and fear.
i stretch my voice across continents
which means i am growing wings again.
which means i am not afraid to cross
borders with my grief, to wear your absence
like it’s the last thing you left behind.
222 The Paris-American
when i say my body is a parquet
littered with bones, i mean everything
i once knew is dead & what remains
is the fire you left behind.
in the garden, i mistake the redness
of roses for your breath—which
means i hallucinate about our pastime--
& when i touch the lilies by their necks
i realize how much of a shadow
you have become.
your absence: a flickering candle light
whose ray burns best in the darkest of day
which means i carry your absence like
a language left untranslated.
grief is an ageless animal. it’s months
since the ocean swept your remains
to shore, & here i am waiting
for the rain to wash off the bloodstains.
this body: an ignorant child to the touch
of grief. a crossroad between loss and fear.
i stretch my voice across continents
which means i am growing wings again.
which means i am not afraid to cross
borders with my grief, to wear your absence
like it’s the last thing you left behind.
222 The Paris-American