We’ll build bridges, as if that helps, then go. Twin tongues will bring us that always slow sin Of wandering from no to yes to no Among silent soliloquies of skin. Lost, and fond of failing, we can still see, Like a child born in a land of giants, Awkward poses of immortality. Sipping dew from the blushing elements, Why talk of flowers? Tulips? I can wish And you are young, and will grow younger still. My hunger sleeps in streams and dreams of fish Below arced stones we hung against the hill.
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This is wonderful both for the assonance and for the image. It hit me for the emotion and the artistry.
Thank you for the kind words, Lev.