not to speak them

There are words voluptuous 

as the flesh 

in its moisture, 

its warmth. 

 

Tangible, they tell 

the reassurances, 

the comforts, 

of being human. 

 

Not to speak them 

makes abstract 

all desire 

and its death at last. 

 

[Robert Creeley {1926-2005} 'Love', from Selected Poems, 1945-2005]