AND if my hand should touch you: well, what then? Could finger-tips disclose what thought has missed, Or wake the sleeping sorceries that twist Your mouth almost to smiling? In all men I doubt not there is something kept apart, Not meant to be disturbed. (As in my breast, Darkly, I cherish the small seed of rest.) What curious thing is hidden in your heart? I will not ask. I shall not wonder much, Save at the peace that broods upon your face, As if you dwelt secure in a far land, Remote from thoughts of me, and from my touch; And this I know is your desired safe place, And so I will not reach to you my hand. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE BEING ALL ONE by ROBERT FROST WE CAN'T WRITE OURSELVES INTO ETERNAL LIFE by DAVID IGNATOW LOVE'S TENDRILS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ALBERT SCHIRDING by EDGAR LEE MASTERS LIKE A BULRUSH by MARIANNE MOORE |