johndiii's Journal: [Beloved] The Letter

I want, beloved...

        Little cramped words scrawling all over the paper
        Like a draggled fly's legs,
        What can you tell of the flaring moon
        Through the oak leaves?
        Or of my uncurtained window and the bare floor
        Spattered with moonlight?
        Your silly quirks and twists have nothing in them
        Of blossoming hawthorns,
        And this paper is dull, crisp, smooth, virgin of loveliness
        Beneath my hand.

        I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against
        The want of you;
        Of squeezing it into little inkdrops,
        And posting it.
        And I scald alone, here, under the fire
        Of the great moon.

                        -- Amy Lowell

...the warmth of you, your scent, the sound of your sighs.

just... perfect.

[helicobacter]

I really have nothing more to say.

Re:

[johndiii]

Yes. Strangely enough, this one came up today on my poetry calendar.