“80. My heart is even lonelier than my face” in “Musing”
80.
My heart is even lonelier than my face
When you, away, and the children flee
The street for summer, and the space of night
Takes all day, leaves nowhere full, shakes the heart
Like a tree, and I, windfall inside and out,
Soundless like a task, fold in similitude
And cannot compare myself or anyone,
You, for instance, to a summer’s day.
More lovely you, and quiet falls in my mind
Inarticulate as the flashing water
Flat to the horizon. The nameless dead
Of time reach for history, their love
Denied. These words are shadows, signatures,
Fools to oblivion: my love must be silent.
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