There is some kiss we want
with our whole lives,
the touch of spirit on the body.
Seawater begs the pearl
to break its shell.
And the lily, how passionately
it needs some wild darling.
At night, I open the window
and ask the moon to come
and press its face against mine.
Breathe into me.
Close the language-door
and open the love-window.
The moon won't use the door,
only the window.
4 comments:
leave the words behind - they can't describe or welcome love in its own true name. steven
"open the love-window"
how beautiful.
Musicianship
Hanging out windows,
doing as you've asked me to,
rising blood red tides
lifting me to you -
it's all in the grand old songs,
all in this fine ink,
all in the quavers
that bind the world's melodies:
I've heard what you said.
Yes, how beautiful this is: 'Close the language-door / and open the love-window'!
I have sometimes been kissed by the spirit in that way, but why can't it happen more often? I'm probably wanting it too much, and should just chill, and be receptive, and close the language-door ...
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