September 06, 1994|By Linda Marie Flaherty

I can't finish a thought

or put a line together

in writing

With pounding urgency

the night of your days

collides into the dreams

of my night

And I, who love you,

am left at loose ends

of the sentence

Searching in all the

wrong places

for all the right


to put its meaning back.

You interrupt

the rhythm of my soul's


but no dictionary helps me now.

Your life is a question

I can't answer.

Linda Marie Flaherty writes from Baltimore.


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