Meeting Benches World art in all forms
SO FAR
I love you and you’re not here. I linger in this garden, breathing the color that is the thought, before becoming a language in the air still. Well as your name, is a pale spectrum and, as far as I it exhale incessantly, it will not next to me. Tonight, I you you invent, I you imagine, your most sharp movements of the words that I’ll say, and you’ve already said. Wherever you are now, in my mind you staring at me with a look, you being here, while the cool evening light melts into the ground. Mistaken your mouth, but smiles anyway. I hold you close to me more, so far, to invent love, as long as the singing of nocturnal birds stop, and mute, what had to happen, for sure, in memory. The stars are filming without purpose.
(Carol Ann Duffy)
