tumbling down stairs
The lost one: the lost-in-love one never can die.
The child-heart: the bleeding child-heart never can be dry.
The heart’s child: the wide-eyed heart’s child never will cry:
The love unspoken cannot be a lie!
(Softer, be softer, my song.)
We build our own imprisonment
In the sealed-up oaks of fear:
We crouch in the old, old trunks:
Be-numbed by threats of dispossession:
And though we may send up a timid leaf,
a tender bough,
We rise too late to greet our unknown loves.
Leonard Bernstein - “Afterthought
[Study for the ballet “Facsimile”] (via snarkysoprano)
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