These Words, They Were Not Said

Your eyes have been singing in my mind
with power, a symphony of possibility,
with light, a full moon dancing brightness around my darkened self,
with depth, showing from afar the murmur of your soul.

I long to hear the warm rhythm of your heart,
to conduct our desires to selfless fulfilment,
to hear your mind sing to me of love.


interpretation
from detritous

This poem was published in Broadside 1990.

image: po

Dylan Harris
86-87

it's my hands
my difficulty with melancholy
hence the coldness
fear in flight, god
dog sea
push pop
all
publish

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