The seventh column | Petrichorgazette

The Seventh Column,

Once again Diderot’s beautiful ruin stands

in the corner of my mind,

the great book-city he described in Les Bijoux Indiscrets.

It stands there with its cupola and wings and spires;

the vast cranes that have been thrown up over the roofs,

the towers of every color and shape, like laments;

the wide-open windows that look out across the city’s view:

and here a rich man’s palace, there a poor man’s hovel,

and everywhere the same old poverty and misery.

The sun shines on Diderot’s ruin, but it is not enough to warm

the air. It glares on the golden spires and cupolas,

and melts the stone and marble into liquid gold.

The shadows lie across the dusty streets like a veil of fire;

the scorched pavement is strewn with broken glass,

with splinters of wood and bits of plaster; the dead leaves rustle,

and amid that universal silence one hears the distant hum

of I can’t remember how long it’s been.

Every day blends into the next,

each one longer and colder than the last,

a silent, endless lullaby.

But I remember one thing,

—You.

Always by my side,

your smile. your touch,

your laugh, like bells in the sky,

holding me up every time I fall.

You had a tempo in your waltz,

a swaying rhythm

that mesmerized me,

so soft and silent,

sweet like honey in my mouth.

Two steps to the right,

two steps to the left,

round and round you went,

like a quiet storm

rippling under my skin,

flowing over me like the tide.

And then you left.

And I was alone,

cut off from my lifeline,

lost in the sea of monotone days.

So far, so gone,

a speck in time.

But I still remember,

the sound of your heart,

the thrill of your touch,

your beautiful song,

and all that I lost,

when you walked away.

One thing I remember—

“I’ll come back next year”

—Your words like a promise,

a piece of hope in this cold,

lonely world,

always keeping me alive,

always giving me a reason to smile,

to keep moving forward,

one day at a time.

Will you ever come back?

I don’t know,

But at least I know that

I love you so.

a city in pain.