Understanding Backwards

"Life can only be understood backwards" Kierkegaard

I spilled it,

wrote your name in cola

on the table between our hands.

You said it,

told me you were leaving

for a country far from this one.

I kissed you,

then I started crying

but you didn't even notice.

We made it,

just like world's end lovers

in a hotel in the mountains.

We did it,

jumped a burning broomstick

in an office with the door locked.

I knew you,

fell like Pyramus for Thisbe

though I never spoke the words.

I felt it,

long before it happened,

the shift from death to living.

Reviews

[several thousand]

Great poem. The simplicity of the format gels well with the somewhat cryptic message.

[Roland Petrov]

The first verse, all on its own, would make a great micropoem. Speaking of those, I think I'll post some of mine.