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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345440" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>That Day</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is the desk I sit at<br>and this is the desk where I love you too much<br>and this is the typewriter that sits before me<br>where yesterday only your body sat before me<br>with its shoulders gathered in like a Greek chorus,<br>with its tongue like a king making up rules as he goes,<br>with its tongue quite openly like a cat lapping milk,<br>with its tongue - both of us coiled in its slippery life.<br>That was yesterday, that day.<br>That was the day of your tongue,<br>your tongue that came from your lips,<br>two openers, half animals, half birds<br>caught in the doorway of your heart.<br>That was the day I followed the king's rules,<br>passing by your red veins and your blue veins,<br>my hands down the backbone, down quick like a firepole,<br>hands between legs where you display your inner knowledge,<br>where diamond mines are buried and come forth to bury,<br>come forth more sudden than some reconstructed city.<br>It is complete within seconds, that monument.<br>The blood runs underground yet brings forth a tower.<br>A multitude should gather for such an edifice.<br>For a miracle one stands in line and throws confetti.<br>Surely The Press is here looking for headlines.<br>Surely someone should carry a banner on the sidewalk.<br>If a bridge is constructed doesn't the mayor cut a ribbon?<br>If a phenomenon arrives shouldn't the Magi come bearing gifts?<br>Yesterday was the day I bore gifts for your gift<br>and came from the valley to meet you on the pavement.<br>That was yesterday, that day.<br>That was the day of your face,<br>your face after love, close to the pillow, a lullaby.<br>Half asleep beside me letting the old fashioned rocker stop,<br>our breath became one, became a child-breath together,<br>while my fingers drew little o's on your shut eyes,<br>while my fingers drew little smiles on your mouth,<br>while I drew I LOVE YOU on your chest and its drummer<br>and whispered, 'Wake up!' and you mumbled in your sleep,<br>'Sh. We're driving to Cape Cod. We're heading for the Bourne<br>Bridge. We're circling the Bourne Circle.' Bourne!<br>Then I knew you in your dream and prayed of our time<br>that I would be pierced and you would take root in me<br>and that I might bring forth your born, might bear<br>the you or the ghost of you in my little household.<br>Yesterday I did not want to be borrowed<br>but this is the typewriter that sits before me<br>and love is where yesterday is at.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Sexton">Anne Sexton</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345440" data-title="That Day de Anne Sexton" data-description="This is the desk I sit at
and this is the desk where I love you too much
and this is the typewriter that sits before me
where yesterday only your body sat before me
with its shoulders gathered in like a Greek chorus,
with its tongue like a king ma..."></div>
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