soft as old silk
I tread in this room
wary of space
that between us flows
you know me
as fish knows fish in tide -
no more you know
I could mark you through to the bone -
no touch
you'd own
so gently I walk
around the space
enclosing you
soft as silk
loving you
Frances Horovitz (1938-83).
1 comment:
That's beautiful. Nobody dies (for some reason, my favorite poems are ones with people dying), but it's beautiful.
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