Tuesday, August 09, 2005

two by fire . . .

I am dying
because you have not
died for me
and the world
still loves you

I write this because I know
that your kisses are born blind
on the songs that touch you

I don't want a purpose
in your life
I want to be the last among
your thoughts
The way you listen to New York City
when you fall asleep

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There are no traitors among women
even the mother does not tell the son
they do not wish us well

She cannot be tamed by conversation
Absence is the only weapon
against the arsenal of her body

She reserves a special contempt
for the slaves of beauty
She lets them watch her die

Forgive me, partisans,
I only sing this for the ones
who do not care who wins the war

Leonard Cohen
The Energy of Slaves

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