Keith Haring |
my eye catches the heart in you
I bend to it
there is no limit to hold those parts
I want everyone out of my way
our way gives on to east lane
there is still a grain of truth
it is in that straight line
yet randomly held by a thin thread
sound is but silent
I would be in it
delineated yet distinct
you watch from afar
aloof to all but yourself
miles away."