December, 1903
And if I can't speak about my love-
if I don't talk about your hair, your lips, your eyes,
still your face that I keep within my heart,
the sound of your voice that I keep within my mind,
the days of September rising in my dreams,
give shape and colour to my words, my sentences,
whatever theme I touch, whatever thought I utter.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Added by Poetry Lover
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