The Writer's Voice
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Surreal Reality
by
Jim Ciccolini
From my heart to my lips, already meanings lack,
and from my lips to your ears, the words live no more.
A copy of a copy and the feeble tongue does wrack,
for no words can truly stand upon our world's verbal floor.
But, dear lover, come closer: my soul aches to speak.
For if only I could press my heart to your own,
then substituting words would I never need seek,
but 'tis always in words that emotions are disowned.
Come into my arms, my beautiful boon,
and let your cheek upon my shoulder lay.
Rest there in peace, for the time is soon,
that you will truly hear what my heart yearns to say.
For only in translation does emotion err,
but from my lips to yours is a language pure and true;
flawless words of silence we share,
and, without a mistake I say "I love you."
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