– -Thy gracefulness- –
In thy love’s nectarous pulp
My mind fictitious and glum,
did find a strait to Outstrip sore sever.
Thy love : heaven’s chosen beatitude for
a slighted soul,
amorous song of haunted drop did rive
Pain, pestilence and Plague.
Thy love: sainted Souse to embalm once addled by Ingrained Stain,
did bestir to Peppy song of life.
The flashing of thy eyes full of love : the dream – born bint out of my wearied self,
did surface my folded wings,
Poorly, punk and pine.
Thy smile writ for my name: deathless glance of a crested swan on a crestal stream,
reared my dying dream to float to Touch the Moon.
Thy being, a shadow of a Summer’s Mirthful downpour of a bourn in a solitary heap,
actuated a deep Yearn to break into thy
Self to cluster the song of our singleness.
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