I Cannot Speak of Love

Letters refuse to gather around...

My heart that rushes and strains at the

sound of his voice, the collection of all

these years hidden in the lines around his

eyes, the kindness that heaps itself around

me, infusing the air I breathe

Words will not form around this

knowing of him, his hands, his eyes,

our lives...

It rises in me, a rolling ball of fire,

a terror, immense and profound

a shadow that looms, hungry

Like the sun, you cannot look

directly into or it burns

Only an eclipse, a look through

a filtered square or just to its sides

can render him merely human

and not the fragile box

that holds my soul

Reviews

[Robert Strzalko]

It made me think of you reading letters that you keep in a box. I don't know if I am correct or not but that's what came to mind. If so, that is a box of emotion and memories.....but it seems that it is open to interpretation.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thanks Robert! I appreciate you reading and sharing your thoughts.

[Simran Kewlani]

Really good. It should have rhymed, but I like the usage of words in this poem. keep it up. (:

[Kristina Moulaison]

There are very few poems I like that rhyme. Thanks so much for your review!

[Simran Kewlani]

Oh okay. I didn't know that. (: