Oh speak to me of things that do not matter.
Our friendship is a fragile thing
Speak too loudly and
It will shatter.
Each self is patterned with
The other self.
We are similar but not the same,
Surrounded with a tissue
Of touches now and then
Or compliments.
The light shines through us,
Is distorted.
We both pretend
Not to know
That this fragile thing
If subject to one outright blow,
Would shatter.
Take care.
Oh speak to me
Of things that do not matter.
Catherine Czerkawska, Edinburgh 1973.
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