I have been loved.
By my parents, in spite of being the black sheep of the family,
by my friends, by the dog named Jimi
who used to live on our stairs,
by the cat named Elsa who was lost,
by the sea I have visited so many times.
I have been loved by my teachers,
by the crows I used to feed in my childhood.
I have been loved
by all the women I have been with.
I have been loved.
I have been loved.
I have been loved by the cigarettes.
I have been loved.
I also have been loved by the griefs.
I have been loved.
And when I die,
I am willing to be loved
by the ground,
by the grave
that takes me in.
I have been loved.
