Knowing
Mistrustful of your past, worldly charms are lost to you,
Dear woman, once there must have been brilliance in
Your downcast eyes – a dimming trace receding to
The backdrop of your elegant form and mien – where
Vanity sublimates into glad necessity. You hesitate
And speak softly to strangers with courteous indifference,
And gently smile at friendly chatter because you
Have wisely guessed that no one will understand.
Our fears, longings and dismay are not as ineffable
As we at times like to believe – they are more…
Encrypted with animated ciphers born of blood and time
Abhorring to be denied a hearing from considerate ears
They miscreate a progeny in the vast void of hushed being
Threatening to rend ourselves from ourselves. Just then
Some meaning may be perceived and embarked upon
Or some unkind truth dissipated in labile discursions.
