It is raining outside.I watch the splashing bubbles
on the wet courtyard....
Momentary touches, momentary proximity
and they explode...
You sit in front of me
your chin on your hands
your hair falling,
like dark clouds over the moon....
Your hands are tiny
and I wish I could touch them.
We sit mute -
I, weighed by my desire to feel you
You, with the knowledge of that desire...
...I wish I was a child
and could weep...
How big a price, my dream,
we have to pay for being grown-ups!!
- Sept 2nd, 1976
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