The Black Christ & Other Poems/There Must Be Words
There Must Be Words
THIS wound will be effaced as others have,This scar recede into oblivion,Leaving the skin immaculate and suave,With none to guess the thing they gaze upon.After a decent show of mourning I,As once I ever was, shall be as freeTo look on love with calm unfaltering eye,And marvel that such fools as lovers be.
These are brave words from one who like a childCuts dazzling arabesques on summer iceThat, kissed by sun, begins to crack and thaw;The old assurance dies, only the wildDesire to live goes on; any deviceCompels its frantic grasp, even a straw.