I am happy to have another poem by my friend RHB (author of "The Suit" and "Pigeon").   He is a very talented poet, in my opinion.  - poetheart

Words are not deeds
They don’t actually "do" anything
They lay there on the paper
They lie just as often
They float through the air
They tease the eye or ear
Bounce off or become absorbed

String two together
Or two or three or a hundred
Twist their meanings by
Their proximity to other words
Make them dance on the eyes
Make them sing on the ears
Make them stab through a heart
The pain felt is ethereal
The damage done is imaginary

Love is not an act
It doesn’t require movement
It lays on the heart
It lies just as often

© 2000 RHB

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