LISA SITKIN |
The Limit of Literature
The first night, they read a play that goes backwards
called Betrayalthere are times
when I craveThe second night,
they read the final pages of Ulyssesmy mouth full
of yessesThe third night, they read Cyrano,
in which language is lovelanguage is not love
my tongue is fleshWhen they read Salome, she kept begging him to kiss her,
and he kept begging her to dance for himthe moon darkened
and we both lost our headsThey made love in the forest after reading
the first canto of Dante's InfernoI followed you down
in circlesThey made love in the middle of an erotic story
then finished reading ityou held a fistful of my hair tight in your hand,
touched me here and here and hereShe recited poems to him
when she wanted to kiss his earsLet me not to the marriage
of true minds admit impedimentsHe read her introductory essays
and epiloguesLove is not love
Love is not love
Poems by Lisa Sitkin: