The Letter Poem by Nero CaroZiv

I sent her a letter; whatever my courage carried
With words of courtesy and cordial dull style
About small petty things and frivolous daily hours
Where none of my stormy raging, roaring feelings are buried
How she would know that it is merely grammar and syntax
And all essential verbs and pronouns I have left out
Who would tell her that my fingers were coward; shut
How they waded and retreated slowly from the pages I wish to write
If she can only read between the lines
Excavate; dig and find the fountain of my love
A volcano of torture that would engulf her heart
If she can only disassemble the words into single letters
And reassemble them all into inferno of words
That bounce but never came out; never written


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