August 15, 2024
Poem by Ellen Wright
I Love Myself By Falling Into a Well of SadnessI take Donnie Hathaway with me though I’m going nowhere
on a chilled night late in November, as A Song For You
repeats warming the cold corners of this room and relaxes
the voids in me. Wouldn't it be nice to be in love
and have someone croon, pine for me, need something
from me to complete himself so much it flowed
out of him in song. I've grown old with Donny's cover.
He never got to grow old at all. White keys ascend;
music flows like first snow falling against a night sky.
When he sings where there's no space or time, isn’t it
impossible to be loved like that—even to love myself
like that. Then close my eyes and throw my head
back and let something happen to my body as music
mounts to a crescendo before the repeat begins.