The world around you like a humdrum,
society that is.

I want you to describe oysters as rich people,
and shell fish as the poor.

I want you to describe gentle loneliness,
as some waterway backstreet lost in Venice.

And I want you to describe fear, as found
in the heart of a clown perpetually stuck in time.

And I want you to describe loneliness too.

And oh please describe your happiest dream,
your most terrible nightmare and your dirtiest fantasy.

I want to know your wants, your needs,
your lusts, your hopes and your feelings too –
because if the rose petals know, I ask, why can’t I?

I want you to describe them, as if you were young again –
with bright eyes staring up into the sky.

And I want you to describe them now, under this
one simple circumstance –

I want you to describe it all to me now,
without saying a single word.

(c) March, 1997, Steven H. Lee

This poem is also posted in The Writer's Corner at Epinions.com.