Twenty-One Love Poems XIV

XIV

It was your vision of the pilot

confirmed my vision of you, you said.

He keeps on steering headlong into the waves,

on purpose while we crouched in the open hatchway

vomiting into plastic bags.

For three hours between St. Pierre and Miquelon,

I never felt closer to you.

In the close cabin where the honeymoon couples

huddled in each other’s laps and arms.

I put my hand on your thigh

to comfort both of us.

Your hand came over mine,

we stayed that way,

suffering together in our bodies,

as if all suffering were physical,

we touched so in the presence of strangers

who knew nothing and cared less

vomiting their private pain

as if all suffering were physical.

This is poem XIV, from Adrienne Rich's Twenty-One Love Poems collection, written between 1974-1976.  These were originally published as a complete collection but were later re-published and included as part of another collection of works, written between 1974-1977, called The Dream Of A Common Language.

Twenty-One Love Poems and The Floating Poem, (un-numbered) can all be found here at oldpoetry.