Straight
The look on my young face did not make you
Unbutton shirt or heart. N o whisper came
From you, not even once, though once we two
Kissed. Kissing only made a distant frame
Around your coolness, coolness that was warm
But cold where coldness matters in the part
Of you reserved for others. Coldness swarmed
Around our lips, impressive in my heart.
Impressed it limped away to colder hills
As Scotland is divorced from distant Greece.
Your words and gestures and your kiss were pills
To swallow, causing pain and curing peace.
In backgrounds I am hugging you again.
The backgrounds of tree paintings share the pain.
[The right-hand margin of this sonnet is supposed to be straight like the left-hand margin, but this seems to be impossible for WordPress/Elegant Themes to allow. So much for the wonders of modern technology. If geeks were only as good as poets are, the world would be a better place.]