Elizabeth T. Gray Jr

Longer than this, ah, yes
one can remain silent longer than this

*

With a gaze fixed like the gaze of the dead
one can stare for long hours
into the smoke of a cigarette
at the shape of a cup
at the colorless flower in the carpet
at the faint line of writing on the wall

With withered fingers
one can draw aside the curtain and look
In the alleyway a heavy rain pours down
A child with his colorful balloons
is standing in a doorway
A worn-out cart makes a racket
as it hurries out of the empty square

One can remain in place
by the side of the curtain, but blind, deaf

With a voice utterly false, utterly foreign
one can cry out
“I love”
In the overpowering arms of a man
one can be a beautiful and healthy female
with a body like a leather tablecloth
with two big firm breasts
In the bed of a drunk, a crazy man, a tramp
one can contaminate the chastity of a love

One can belittle with cleverness
every wondrous riddle
Alone, one can do a crossword puzzle
Alone, one can amuse oneself with the discovery of a useless answer
a useless answer, yes, in five or six letters

One can kneel down for a lifetime
with head bowed, at the foot of a cold grille in a shrine
One can see God in an anonymous tomb (*)
One can find faith with a worthless coin
One can rot in the chambers of a mosque
like an old prayer-reader
Like zero in subtraction, addition, and multiplication
one can always get the same result
One can imagine your eye in its implacable cocoon
as a colorless button on a worn-out shoe
One can, like water in its hole, dry up

With shame one can hide the beauty of a moment
like a funny black-and-white snapshot
at the bottom of a trunk
In the empty frame of what remains of the day
one can hang the image of a man condemned, defeated, or crucified
One can conceal the crack in the wall with masks
One can mingle with images emptier than these

One can be just like mechanical dolls
and see the world with two glass eyes
In a cloth-lined box
with a body filled with straw
one can sleep for years in folds of lace and sequins
With every squeeze of a lecherous hand one can spontaneously cry out
“Ah, I’m very lucky!”

Sin

I sinned a sin full of pleasure
in an embrace that was warm and fiery
I sinned in arms that were hot
and vindictive and made of iron

In that dark and silent sanctuary
I looked into his eyes full of secrets
My restless heart trembled in my chest
at the demands of his hungry eyes

In that dark and silent sanctuary
I sat agitated at his side
His lips poured violent desire across my lips
I was freed from my mad heart’s grief

I whispered words of love into his ear:
I want you, O my love
I want you, O life-giving embrace
You, O my mad lover

The passion in his eyes lit a flame
Red wine danced in the cup
In the soft bed my euphoric body
trembled on his chest

I sinned a sin full of pleasure
beside a dazed and trembling body
O Lord, what do I know about what I did
in that dark and silent sanctuary