Liber Saturni - Chapter 20

Verses

Zuhal, you move so slowly that my longing mistakes you for a fixed star.

I have loved quicker people and lost them quicker.

Your ring is the bracelet of someone who will not give me their hand.

Tonight I pour coffee for two and let the second cup become astronomy.

They say you are cold and dry. Lovers are always excellent meteorologists of what refuses them.

I would cross the black between us if distance were made of footsteps.

Instead I send this thought, which will arrive instantly and prove nothing.

Old star, do you know how beautiful delay becomes when one chooses to wait?

Do not answer. Your silence has better manners than most men.

A jinn once promised me any beloved. I asked for the impossible one and kept the jinn unemployed.

Perhaps your rings are not walls but handwriting, a sentence circling because it cannot end.

If so, write me somewhere between the ice.

I will be dead long before your weather notices my name.

That is acceptable. Love does not become smaller because the recipient is enormous.