THESE are the most extraordinary women in the world,
they do not go to bed at 11 p.m.
when they dance, they dance with you,
when they sing, it is the motherhood of half the world,
when they go walking, they have an affair with sunlight;
these are the women who hold men's faces in the palm of
their hands, these are the women men go back to, because
they do not come easy and they do not come hard. These women
are poetry. They arrange for their sons and daughters the
minute they see the sun, because the sun is a beautiful thing
to sit under. To love the air is to want to fill it with lovers.
These women do not understand words like
would, likely, depending --
those are English words
that have no place in the mouths of people,
those are words made up for the language of thought,
that have forgotten to serve the language of lovers.
Those words are in a manual at the bottom of the ocean,
where strange fish gnaw upon them,
uncomprehending fish that mouth the strange words
like relationship, perhaps, except, attachment.
The most extraordinary women in the world,
above, are sunning on beaches; when they sigh,
trees far off are heard breathing in
the loveliest towns in the world.
Pier Giorgio Di Cicco