Tuesday, November 17, 1992

Granite

How could I touch you I asked
the sky- your eyes -were grey
and held no answer. You stare
through me, unmoved by beauty

Wait for rain that falls like
tears, you seem to say. There
is an ending to the world and
I will feel my body, rough on

yours and heavy though breath
comes easily. Lead me to your
beauty and to your bed I tell
your frozen form. With eyes I

see you silent, upon a silken
throne within my mind. Broken
thoughts are simple. I find a
quiet piety within your eyes.

No comments: