I caress those words, like diamonds…
and am not surprised by the hard glitter
or the chilling shudder – like certain
eyes that fixedly stare, cold and rough – that
they, the words, carve upon my skin.
So, I tear them from my caresses, yes, from
my fingers, and open my hands to let them
fall, the words, as obsolete as jewels
of treasures no longer sought, to the
bottom of nothing. Thus I strip myself
and my caresses of those words, like diamonds…
And I am not surprised that a precious, warm
reverberation, a gem-like splendour glowing
from other fingers, from other eyes, as smooth
as lips – bare of words and simply loving -
suddenly, eloquently, come to adorn me
… of caresses.
