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Adrienne Rich - Twenty-One Love Poems XX
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	XX
	
That conversation we were 
	always on the edge of having,
	runs on in my head.
	At night the Hudson trembles
	in New Jersey light.
	polluted water yet reflecting, 
	even sometimes, the moon
	and I discern a woman I loved.
	Drowning in secrets,
	fear wound round her throat
	and choking her like hair.
	And this is she with whom I tried to speak, 
	whose hurt, expressive head
	turning aside from pain,
	is dragged down deeper
	where it cannot hear me,
	and soon I shall know I was talking to my own soul.
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
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