poem

On Reading Paul Eluard and Thinking of Gale

She gives me flowers every Winter
Her dry breath in the Spring
Her voice when I hear not a whisper
Her silence when she sings

Alone, her eyes are upon me
Beside her, I disappear
Each thought I have defies me
Is voiced, and dies in my ears

She brings me shade in beams of sunlight
Dreams in the brightest day
Night that prevents me from sleeping
Words when I’ve nothing to say

*****
quote: (unrelated to poem)
You can hold yourself back from the sufferings of the world, this is something you are free to do and is in accord with your nature, but perhaps precisely this holding back is the only suffering that you might be able to avoid.
Franz Kafka