If a man says half himself in the light, adroit
Way a tune shakes into equilibrium,
Or approximates to a note that never comes:

Says half himself in the way two pencil-lines
Flow to each other and softly separate,
In the resolute way plane lifts and leaps from plane:

Who knows what intimacies our eyes may shout,
What evident secrets daily foreheads flaunt,
What panes of glass conceal our beating hearts?

Added: Feb 21 2003 | Viewed: 1619 times | Comments (0)

Poet: A.S.J. Tessimond
Poem: Betrayal
Volume: The Walls of Glass
Year: Published/Written in 1934
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