“The Bride of the Wind” painting, 1913, by Oskar Kokoschka
I scream. I cry. My pain is fracture.
My soul’s nobility rises over the rupture
Rupture of the elements hold close
I hold close to my breast
My loss in the agony of confusion
My self-belief cracks the sinews
The sinews hold the last remnants
The last remnants of my heart’s hope.
I cry. I scream. My dignity is drained.
My dignity is mine to remove
To remove with my corpse’s face
My corpse turn its last expression into a desire of abolition.
I abolish. I proclaim my dead face!
My face is my final interpreter.
I destroy nothing in my final hour
The hours of our coupling
Bring forth the churning seas
Of storm, of chaos never-ending.
My monument to my own death
Is a blue painted landscape.
My love is here
My love is in still-closed eyes of she
Who reposes in the brokenness of me.