finch

i love books. the way the smell, the way they feel, the different ways text looks on a printed page. i love when i rediscover a book i haven't read in awhile, perhaps one i had all together forgotten. today, you get a poem that i recently rediscovered, and had forgotten how much i like it. i got this book years and years ago, perhaps one of the first poetry books anyone ever gave me, and every once in awhile i like to go back to it.

The Philosopher
-Edna St. Vincent Millay

And what are you that, wanting you,
I should be kept awake
As many nights as there are days
With weeping for your sake?

And what are you that, missing you,
As many days as crawl
I should be listening to the wind
And looking at the wall?

I know a man that's a braver man
And twenty men as kind,
And what are you, that you should be
The one man in my mind?

Yet women's ways are witless ways,
As any sage will tell,--
And what am I, that I should love
So wisely and so well?

and for everybody.

...man i love poetry. seriously.