Love that is pure

What I thought I can’t write.
What I wrote I can’t phone.
What I phoned, I can’t speak.
What I speak in person is dry.
Yet passion hits the shore
In your vision and your short talks.
No such happening is with others,
Even in amorous talks with them.

Is it the sign of pure love?
25.11.99

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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