Unread Poems
I wonder of this
cinema behind our eyes-
its composition
and inaudible
symphony, its chords?...
You and I have had
our crucial moments…
What is different now?
The petite morte
and all the silence, suffered
by the hands of lovers -
all those unread poems
that fed us with beautiful words
The poems that dared
to breathe us into their souls
and asked us what color
we dream in, if we were
to dream?…
What is it we truly desire?
Could you and I erase
those slow successive deaths
and learn to love - to live?
Would we be
forever changed
by writing ourselves
awake ?
Deborah Russell
03-16-05
Fort Collins, Co
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