His Silence Poem by Erica Jong
His Silence
He still wears the glass skin of childhood.
Under his hands, the stones turn mirrors.
His eyes are knives.
Who froze the ground to his feet?
Who locked his mouth into an horizon?
Why does the sun set when we touch?
I look for the lines between the silences.
He looks only for the silences.
Cram this page under his tongue.
Open him as if for surgery.
Let the red knife love slide in
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/26/2024 5:23:16 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Cram this page under his tongue. Open him as if for surgery. Let the red knife love slide in. a very good poem. tony