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If a man says half himself in the light, adroit
Way a tune shakes into equilibrium,
Or approximates to a note that never comes:

Says half himself in the way two pencil-lines
Flow to each other and softly separate,
In the resolute way plane lifts and leaps from plane:

Who knows what intimacies our eyes may shout,
What evident secrets daily foreheads flaunt,
What panes of glass conceal our beating hearts?



Submitted by Stephen Fryer

Added: 2 Sep 2002 | Last Read: 4 Sep 2026 4:27 PM | Viewed: 6727 times

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