Who else will listen silently while I speak of my love for you
Who else will stand still while I whisper my secrets
Those deep, hidden secrets buried in my heart
Except this rough, brick wall
Standing so tough and so tall
While I whisper all I have to say;
Nobody would remain as stoic and immobile.
No, nobody could or would. I, myself
Knowing myself so well, can hardly believe all
That I pour out into this ready wall’s ear
I, myself, can hardly listen to my own words
Speaking out my barely avowed hesitations
And uncommitted love’s crimes; I, myself softly touch
This rugged wall and it’s surface
As though it is the skin of my loved one’s face.
by Rani Turton