92 Your eyes are carrying the imprint of my eyes. I cannot separate my blue from yours -- All tints -- from frightened running rain and stormy clouds To glinting waves which lick the naked shore. Your arms are carrying the imprint of my arms. I cannot separate my arms from yours -- All gestures which could hold the water of your eyes In drying fingers of my burning circle. Your lips are carrying the imprint of my lips. I cannot separate my lips from yours -- All moves -- from, hiding in the tongue, the hunting wish, To the contractions giving birth to words.







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IRENE CĂSAR
Confined Verse
Collected Poems

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