Behind the jars of medicine,
the drugs and sleeping pills
and my fading Icon memorising you,
in the mirrored bathroom cabinet
you’ll find an ebon pipe
that puts my mind to rest,
please bring the pipe and image now
and blow with your healing breath
notes of silence in your loving kiss
and hold me if you might
while urgent shivers chill phobias
in my inner eye and hold my judderings
tell me how to sleep,
show me inertia this night
with your lips and love
and only whisper nothing
in my inner ear
to smother this
verruchteit
and I’ll forgive you the same,
mending you, when you are insane.
*’verruchteit’ German: madness
Henry Virgin, from 34 Poems about Love
Cover: Renate Bertlmann at 58th Venice Art Biennale (Austrian Pavilion)
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