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“There were so many things I wanted to tell you. Or rather, I wished to have things that I wanted to tell you. What a thing, to be with you and have no words for it. What a thing, to be outcast like that. And then everything unfastened. It was like something was always dissolving inside you— Already it's hard to remember how you used to comb your hair or how you tilted your broad face in green shade. Now what seas, what meanings can I place in you?” — Mary Szybist
There were so many things I wanted to tell you.
Or rather,
I wished to have things that I wanted to tell you.
What a thing, to be with you and have
no words for it. What a thing,
to be outcast like that.
And then everything unfastened.
It was like something was always dissolving
inside you—
Already it's hard to remember
how you used to comb your hair or how you
tilted your broad face in green shade.
Now what seas, what meanings
can I place in you?