What I hope (when I hope) is that we'll <br />see each other again,-- <br /> <br />. . . and again reach the VEIN <br /> <br />in which we loved each other . . <br />It existed. It existed. <br /> <br />There is a NIGHT within the NIGHT,-- <br /> <br />. . . for, like the detectives (the Ritz Brothers) <br />in The Gorilla, <br /> <br />once we'd been battered by the gorilla <br /> <br />we searched the walls, the intricately carved <br />impenetrable paneling <br /> <br />for a button, lever, latch <br /> <br />that unlocks a secret door that <br />reveals at last the secret chambers, <br /> <br />CORRIDORS within WALLS, <br /> <br />(the disenthralling, necessary, dreamed structure <br />beneath the structure we see,) <br /> <br />that is the HOUSE within the HOUSE . . . <br /> <br />There is a NIGHT within the NIGHT,-- <br /> <br />. . . there were (for example) months when I seemed only <br />to displease, frustrate, <br /> <br />disappoint you--; then, something triggered <br /> <br />a drunk lasting for days, and as you <br />slowly and shakily sobered up, <br /> <br />sick, throbbing with remorse and self-loathing, <br /> <br />insight like ashes: clung <br />to; useless; hated . . . <br /> <br />This was the viewing of the power of the waters <br /> <br />while the waters were asleep:-- <br />secrets, histories of loves, betrayals, double-binds <br /> <br />not fit (you thought) for the light of day . . . <br /> <br />There is a NIGHT within the NIGHT,-- <br /> <br />. . . for, there at times at night, still we <br />inhabit the secret place together . . . <br /> <br />Is this wisdom, or self-pity?-- <br /> <br />The love I've known is the love of <br />two people staring <br /> <br />not at each other, but in the same direction.<br /><br />Frank Bidart<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-the-dead/
