My hands have not touched pleasure since your hands, —
No, — nor my lips freed laughter since ‘farewell’,
And with the day, distance again expands
Voiceless between us, as an uncoiled shell.
Yet, love endures, though starving and alone.
A dove’s wings clung about my heart each night
With surging gentleness, and the blue stone
Set in the tryst-ring has but worn more bright.
Hart Crane knew about passion. So few words, could say so much, about being separated from a lover. I sent this poem to my partner because this poem expresses how I feel when ever we are apart.