by In All Our Years
“a poem by Eleonora”
Bitter words are anxious thoughts
That have not yet attained
A destined and sative point
Where they can lie ordained;
But break, instead, through quiet doors
And find a way to stride
Through headier, absurd regales
And would not think to hide.
See, I shall venture nearer, so
The sweetness of your hair
Will brush across my trembling lips
And find forgiveness there.