Borders
“Their art proves that borders are meaningless, transporting us to a future where the world communicates across continents and cultures through sound and story.”
Oh, beautiful man—
within a week, there was no border
between us.
How could I want what he didn’t?
How dare I not want
what he did?
It was beautiful— together,
we were an angel,
a tangle of feathers and wings—
And the sharp cry of a bird!
But whose throat
dared make that sound?
I am probably a contrarian by nature. I’m not sure whether to leave the epigraph at the beginning of this or not; it is what inspired the poem, and that mainly by the fact that, whenever I read something, I feel this innate urge to argue with it! So this poem, I suppose, is my argument about borders and my response to a too-simple reading of the world that simply dismisses them as an idea. Does the relationship in the poem seem a bit creepy? What does it actually mean to dissolve the border between two people?
