The Book of Jobs
THE END OF ENVY
The end of envy
Is a staircase in midair.
There is nothing to want,
But there is wind to love.
I miss what the wind bent,
But I’m used to the bare world.
When I was sentenced to the stairs
For eternity, I didn’t know
I would climb them pregnant,
Or ill, or with the aim of soothing a cry
That would reappear
As soon as I was at the bottom.
In a way I am happy here on the stairs,
For the end of envy
Is the end of desire, the end of the edifice,
But not of elevation.