Tuesday, March 18, 2025

The New Language of Love

There is the great dying of the day,
the falling of the bloated orange sun
into a sea that is too blue to be real,
the wafer dipped into the chalice, as it were.
Purple and violet fire breaks out along the horizon.
The day is quenched, and the steam
that rises from the line where water meets sky
becomes the blackest void, the empty mind of God
until a thousand million stars appear,
the brilliant but silent seraphim,
and it is all made possible because you and I,
holding hands and nothing more,
are standing barefoot on the sandy shore,
a light sea breeze tossing our hair
and teaching us the new language of love.

~William Hammett


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