The Limits of my Language

The limits of my language are… like bulldog clips on my tongue. How can I conceptualise what is in my heart with words? My feelings for you that are untranslatable into any language. For how can I express what I feel when all I have is a language limited by its very nature?

Your eyes are tinted like feathers on a Jay’s wing. Blue amongst green. Green eyes that pierce me with the depth of a Cornish whirlpool.

You have more than a hint of Magic about you. You read me like a book. Then you peel back pages I never knew I had and you read those too. You held out a hand and restored a piece of me I had lost, and shattered…the limits of my world.



About Delia Stanway

I am an English Literature graduate and musician from Manchester. My main interests are literature, theatre, circus, classical music, nature and ice skating. I enjoy singing, playing the piano and writing about anything and everything.
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