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.


This poem was published in Broadside 1990.

image: poem

86-87

site
copyright

image: set Hear




this archive is hosted by arts & ego
© 1978-2020 dylan harris