Читать книгу Synapse - Antjie Krog - Страница 20

I find myself

for the sorest time

in the crowd of burnt ones

the unchronicled burnt-apart ones

woundshot and heartshattered

we walk stooped over

our thirsting chests heavy with splintered downward-plunging sounds

I bid him farewell

this child of mine

still calciumboned with so many flying dream-humming shadows

I hold his body close

to my heart one last time and milky tight to me tight

in my steadfastness tight

when I let myself go I am shorter more crying more aching

and suddenly thinned out I rock unwinged on my feet

my love joltneedled and bruised eternally powerless

he turns away to his bags

and my body tears open before me

the seams of my arms burst loose

and grieve bleeding after his loving nearing bodyness

his bodily being that came from me

from everything that was coal in me and uncharted

his bodied belovedness irredeemably overt

child that I loved as well with my arms

and his loudthroated unblemished cheeks of song

child

child of my breast

do not leave me

me and this burning unmade unpronounced godgalled fatherland