My hands have not touched pleasure since your hands, --
No, -- nor my lips freed laughter since 'farewell',
And with the day, distance again expands
Voiceless between us, as an uncoiled shell.
...........very nice and wonderful when someone knows exactly what brings them happiness ?
yes, I agree, love endures...
The 2nd stanza; is hope-mystical. This is a midnight poem.
That secound stanza is so raw with passion it could make stone pulse with life. This man is yearning in his own prison and all he seeks is the one who confounded him there, havent we all been there.
Unusually delicate for a man and for that reason (to me) makes this express his adoration even more than normal.
The title just marries this write wonderfully (exile) speaks volumes of Harolds solitude. I think the reason i appreciate this so much is he uses slightly unusual terms as opposed to the expected (my love and darling) writes....truly a rare little gem
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11/27/2021 3:52:36 PM # 126.96.36.1992