I pray thee, cease to be anew
And dance again that writhing step!
Spasmodic joy well suiteth thee
As violets suit the field unsown.
Yet I could never suffer thee
To be but for a moment gone
- A moment live -
For but thy death,
Thy sweetest balm
- Nepenthe -
- Love -
Sustainest me. Prolongeth me.
So stay thou dead, live not anew
To die again and bloat and burst,
Rather to life remain unbound,
Rather to me remain a friend,
Rather restore to life its truth.
Thou bloated frog on water's edge,
So lodged in the earthen grime.
Monday, January 17, 2011
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