by David Dephy
Heart is the compass, and heart is the way.
Whoever has seen how far we all can go?
Whoever has measured, how much a heart can hold?
I was swallowed by the abyss of promises,
and eaten by the crowd,
when all my wishes were out
of joint.
I was at the heavens’ gate running late in the subway,
trying not to watch the others’ iPhones,
but you smiled and that transfigured me,
a friend,
a pearl,
a bird,
a tree,
they can stand the test of time,
you are always waiting for good news,
so am I,
when the evenings are spread out
against the whitest sky—
and we are poured out like water,
our minds are clear—
as the lights in June,
yet, my heart is melting within me,
and all my wishes are still out of joint.