Dances she upon the breezeOf his exhaled and infinite satisfied dreams,With sun scorching pity on her paper heart,So ripped and lost in explosive perfumeWhere her soul creeps in silence,In shadows and void.Waste and void,Waste and void,Waste and void and her long-lost heart-hopeIs a sighing of whispersThat writhe in the moonlight andSquirm in the dayAnd the heat of the nightAnd the thundering skiesWhere her feet kiss the...
We have tonight, my lover said, To write a poem A poem to write Without a wasted word? said I Said I, said I, said I * Precisely so, my lover said, A hundred words And one besides 'Tis not enough, I fast replied 'Tis not, 'tis not enough * If love were true, my lover said, You'd need but three Just three would do But I would die for you, I said For you I'd die, said I * Quick! Write our poem! my lover said For time is sh...
