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(1926-2005 / United States)

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A Form Of Women

I have come far enough
from where I was not before
to have seen the things
looking in at me from through the open door

and have walked tonight
by myself
to see the moonlight
and see it as trees

and shapes more fearful
because I feared
what I did not know
but have wanted to know.

My facd is my own, I thought.
But you have seen it
turn into a thousand years.
I watched you cry.

I could not touch you.
I wanted very much to
touch you
but could not.

If it is dark
when this is given to you,
have care for its content
when the moon shines.

My face is my own.
My hands are my own.
My mouth is my own
but I am not.

Moon, moon,
whn you leave me alone
all the darkness is
an utter blackness,

a pit of fear,
a stench,
hands unreasonable
never to touch.

But I love you.
Do you love me.
What to say
when you see me.

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003


Read poems about / on: moon, women, fear, alone, dark, tree, woman

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  • Erica Steiner (4/8/2005 2:12:00 PM)

    wow! i feel 'moved' by the words. i feel that he was longing to touch her, but yet couldn't. like forbidden love existing.

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