theparisreview: Very simple love that believes in words,since I cannot do what I want to do,can neither hug nor kiss you,my pleasure lies in my wordsand when I can I speak to you of love.So, sitting with a drink in front of me,the place filled with people,if your forehead quickly creasesin the heat of the moment I speak too loudlyand you never say don’t be so loud,let them think whatever they wantI draw closer melting with languorand your eyes are so sweetly veiledI don’t reach for you, no, not even the softest touchbut in your body I feel I am swimming,and the couch in the bar’s loungewhen we get up looks like an unmade bed. —Patrizia Cavalli, from “Ten Poems”Art Credit Jacob Lawrence
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