Munch-Petersen, Gustaf whisper

whisper

pale-brown girl,
I want to touch your hand,
your slim, patient hand -,
I want to touch your fingers -,
to watch your pale-brown face
turn -

my heart is a knot
of ill-treated scars
in my tight-screwed fist -
pale-brown girl,
I am afraid of every movement -
your soft, black eyes
do graze my brow -
will you heal me -?
can you -?

pale-brown girl,
I want to touch your fingers -
I am afraid of every movement -
let your sad, black eyes
rest on my brow -
I have no tears,
and my strength has gone -