When I was young
there were nine planets
but now there are fewer.
What is there to be
certain of. Only this:
the desire to feel your
body against mine
at least once more.
Each year I need less.
I don’t need your theories
to understand my lived
experience. There is
an anger I carry
inside that I will never
let go of. Something basic
to hold onto while everything
else disappears.
© Gine Myers
Bu şiir, Elective Affinities isimli Amerikan şairlerini derlemeyi amaçlayan antoloji sitesinden alınmıştır. Şakir Özüdoğru tarafından Türkçeleştirilmiş ve Gard'ın 13. sayısında yer almıştır.