You Have The Lovers You have the lovers, they are nameless, their histories only for each other, and you have the room, the bed and the windows. Pretend it is a ritual. Unfurl the bed, bury the lovers, blacken the windows, let them live in that house for a generation or two. No one dares disturb them. Visitors in the corridor tiptoe past the long closed door, they listen for sounds, for a moan, for a song: nothing is heard, not even breathing. You know they are not dead, you can feel the presence of their intense love. (extract...Poem...The Spice-Box of Earth).
Posted on: Sat, 10 Jan 2015 00:22:32 +0000
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