one whisper says to the other
i'm starving
just to touch you
as though the moon would kiss your beaming face.
But how could you really know how i feel
when this night tries to murders me.

One whisper says to the other
this pain is'nt beautiful
there have been times when darkness has moaned
through you
but this pain is'nt beautiful.
then i turned and took this flower
on which it rained
the silence and the moon.

One whisper said to the other
how can this night kill you
with such a flower
born from the poetry in you.

The whispers faded
and the poetry stayed
touching your face
with the moon and silence for fingers.