A solitary telephone
Falling asleep
Or
Falling from sleep
Love that knows
The difference
Between hands that tremble
And hands that bid good bye
Or may be
Who knows
Love is that very difference.
Oh the maker of my dear dark!
The everlasting stiffness of your smoking finger!
The sequestered curve of love
Let me be there
At the meeting place
Where voice murmurs to sleep
What it cannot say to itself...
1 comment:
hmmmmm... is something being started for once again? oh the maker of my dear darkness, has love gotten you again?? :-P
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