Tenderness
There our tenderness was,
It's not guilty of course,
that there is no it more,
that your knock in my door
I do not wait in silence,
Gravity,
languor,
violence
in viscous webs of lonely grief.
How much of tenderness did we give,
Do you remember, honey?
Here now just dust (it's funny)
is really covered our caress with,
I vainly try to wipe, I miss,
There is no sense in trying,
And I am sadly smiling,
Looking in silence so angry still,
but I remember
not pain,
not thrill,
Tenderness runs through mournful thought,
it lies so sweet, it lies a lot,
Tenderness guilty, really,
that there is no more feeling.
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