Rather Bear Those Ills We Have Than Fly to Others That We Know Not Of

The World Had Fled:

The world had fled, with all its silly cares

and questionable aches, and in one swoon

we rose above its stupefying airs

like flying lovesick pigs up to the moon.

     In that blue light where two lives equaled all,

     our souls looked down upon a spinning ball.

The world returned, and this was a surprise

I raged against like someone on a rack,

telling the sun, tears clouding my stunned eyes,

give us our splendid isolation back.

     I craved third rails, a shot of something strong

     when I found out it doesn’t last for long.

The world came back and stayed, pain never ended,

but when the aches and cares begged for a hand,

grew softer in the light we’d made and tended,

I finally began to understand

    love’s widening third stage, and of the three

    this was the most outstanding ecstasy.

Rachel Wetzsteon.