This will be my last poetry post for a while! I just had to share this poem, it has been on my (poorly self-made) desktop for the last few months, and if I ever get my dream, it will be painted above my bed in my London flat.
It’s one of the only poems I stumbled on and immediately fell in love with that is English. My first thought was that it reminds me of Millay’s poetry, and that can never be a bad thing. I think it describes a relationship most people have been in at one point in their life. It’s the kind of relationship I like.
Also, a question for women visiting my blog: can we have wet dreams? Because I think I had one, I dreamed I was in a porn movie (which I would never consider irl) and it was so naughty and sneaky! (and hot)
Poetry under the cut!
Not Love Perhaps
by A.S.J. Tessimond
This is not Love, perhaps,
Love that lays down its life,
that many waters cannot quench, nor the floods drown,
But something written in lighter ink,
said in a lower tone, something, perhaps, especially our own.
A need, at times, to be together and talk,
And then the finding we can walk
More firmly through dark narrow places,
And meet more easily nightmare faces;
A need to reach out, sometimes, hand to hand,
And then find Earth less like an alien land;
A need for alliance to defeat
The whisperers at the corner of the street.
A need for inns on roads, islands in seas,
Halts for discoveries to be shared,
Maps checked, notes compared;
A need, at times, of each for each,
Direct as the need of throat and tongue for speech.
