I passed you on the street - 3

Love makes mutes of those who habitually speak most fluently.

Madeleiene de Scudery

I never saw
How I could hurt,

That all my words
Could beat you down
So cruelly.

My artless tongue...
     Has denied me skills
     To draw my heart

     In any form

    But brutish strokes
...and made me mute.

I cannot speak...
I
can
not
speak
to save our lives
Yet,
I cannot put
My pencil down,
And try again
A simple sketch...
    My hand
    Caressing you,
    My soul
    Embracing you,
     My mind
     Admiring you,
     My arms 
     Supporting you,
     My body
     Shielding you.

 

And in the night,
From the dark,
A summer storm
Drew me out
With
Blazing light,
And
Crashing clouds
And rain
And wind
That lashed my soul
And tossed the trees
Their branches bent,
Beckoning... 

And your voice,
Calling...
     Come, find me.