Touching Each Desire with Happy Jokes

Coming from an evening in the pub
I saw two lovers walking side by side
touching each desire with happy jokes.

I dream to loose myself amongst such love;
instead I’m seeking out a matching word
to fit a line which does not quite combine.

My one duet is shaded fears of madness
with reptile beast corrupting when it can;
I have no happy words of love to tell.

My heart declares I’m not a total whole,
that paradigm where I am half of two:
I need those happy words of love to tell.

This poem was published in Black Rose.





this archive is hosted by arts & ego
© 1978–2024 dylan harris   some rights reserved