“Marie Curie Gives Advice to her Daughter Irene Before her Wedding”
I remember this moment–the pram distilled,
its sediment was an infant,
no longer something born from me,
not residue, not pitchblende,
but its own particle,
an open mouth, a cry,
within its head, a mind wrestling with thoughts
–my motherland could be there,
driven into the skull,
some ancient homing.
Years I have soaked
I’ve begun to bleed light.
I see your father again
crossing streets in rain–
the doors are locked,
his umbrella fills with wind,
the horses approach,
hauling a wagon of soldier’s uniforms–
something to dress the dead–
it’s come to crush him.
My navy suit with solid stitching crushes me.
And since then I’ve begun to confuse
the glowing test tubes
with wicks of the moon, a dazing field of stars,
my own soul, and a moment goes by
when I forget the brutish charm of work.
My hope, daughter, is that
what you love doesn’t come to kill you,
eye by eye, ear by ear, bone by radiant bone.
More poetry, because I can. Aren’t the last three lines exquisite? I found another fairly lovely one, though a little muted in translation. This may be what I leave in my notes to people, I think, if I find fitting pieces.
Biology is going very half-heartedly. If I get horribly ill tomorrow it would be because I ate half-cooked clams in a day-old hotpot broth. My stomach is a veteran, however, and so I should be fine. As always, I don’t know what to make of people anymore – never have, it seems – but there are eight days left. Summer is beginning early, though, and I have a pretty rocking tan right now. If only I could even it out -!
Realization today: some things are better in anticipation, not reality. Sometimes people are so gorgeous it hurts to look at them, but sometimes that’s enough. Had an exhilarating afternoon yesterday sailing on a keel boat in a raging wind with a mind of its own that caught our sails and swung us around. We heeled so hard I thought we were going to capsize, several times. It was spectacularly thrilling, and it was the sun and the wind and I took off my life jacket as soon as we were out of sight and I was in shorts and a tank and the sun was glorious and the wind wasn’t even cold. Today I spread myself out on White O’s deck and tanned my stomach for an hour.
I don’t have any idea what I’m going to do over the summer.