Poems by Steven Haruch.
T H E A R G U M E N T F R O M S I M P L I C I T Y
for Kate
The mornings were like this, ah rah jji? Yes: the room filling with light, the shadows draining into the street.
You were trying to teach me to speak, dropping your key from the third story each evening,
and I climbed up to you with only a clumsy language in my mouth. There were days that you came home
needing only a shower, you said, the smell of stacked dishes trailing like a wet string through the narrow hall.
At night we mouthed the talk of those who are barely awake, not a whisper but a low dull hum. Ah rah jji?
Do you know? How our two bodies shone from the lamps along Damen Avenue, proof
that light could rise. And you were lonely, then, for the country I had not seen in twenty years.
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