She balked at my advances,
but her eyes were flushed
with a raw desire
that both challenged and seduced me.
“If you truly love me, dear,”
I adjured, grabbing her delicate hand
and pressing it into my throbbing chest.
“Your words will come, and they will flow
freely through the rivers that course
throughout your heart; without qualification,
without reason, meaning, or subjoinder.
But with direction.
Your eyes will rest.
And your lips will follow.”
Photo: “Lovers Beneath a Streetlight, Paris”
Brassaï (Gyula Halász)