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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=579178" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Then A Whisper Of A Sea</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=579178" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Subterfuge of romance, because what other sort<br>Of subterfuge is there: all at once running away from war, <br>Running into France, <br>Looking at her gondola underneath all of those soft lights of<br>Romance: <br>Looking up her body like along the soft pews on Sundays: <br>Looking along her body and seeing her secret rosaries; and kissing<br>Them, <br>And speaking to them as if they were a soda fountain of your<br>Unborn children, <br>While the sky just fumes: while it is packaged by cool jets; <br>While its bodies of seraphim divide to multiply, like schoolyards<br>Of tankards of jellyfish in the sea; <br>And I wish so many times that I was better at these amusements: <br>Wish that I was really taking off all of her diamonds of her old<br>Times and speakeasies: <br>And this is all she is, folding down like fresh laundry in the dorm room<br>Of her freshmen, <br>Trapping her like the innocent nuances of all of my neophytes: <br>A dime of blood, a ruby seed, a blushing point and then a whisper of<br>A sea.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Bret+R.+Crabrooke">Bret R. Crabrooke</a></strong></div>