97 Quotes About Sharon-olds

and for an instant he's alive toward me, a gem of sea ofpond in his eye. Then that retreat into himself,which always moved me, as if there werea sideways gravity, in him, toward somevanishing point.

And no, he does not want to meet again, in a year—when wepart, it is with a dry bowand Good-bye.

And it entered my strictured heart, this morning,slightly, shyly as if warily,untamed, a greater sense of the sweetnessand plenty of his ongoing life,unknown to me, unseen by me,unheard by me, untouched by me,but known by others, seen by others,heard, touched.

One of usmaybe a little too much a hunter,the other a little too polar of affection,polar of summer mysteriousness,magnetic in reticent mourning.

And sometimes I feel as if,already, I am not here—

Before I turned out the light,he touched my face, then turned away,then the dark.

but he does not want to talk about it,he wants a stillness at the end of it.

where what cannotbe seen is inferred by what the visibledoes.

I want to say to him, now, Whatwas it like, to love me—when you looked at me,what did you see?