A Message to My Nymph

To leave
Your heart amiss
Of thought not thought of love.

But heart
That bleeds as my life leaves,
Then your hand that clutches my love tight.

Oh heart!
Let me love,
But love away thee!

That pain,
Oh clutched that I cannot think,
But your ocean hair deep abreezed.

Yet I do not need,
But to love another.
Yet you will shine and feel your heart near thine.

Yet love,
What is love?
But thee, oh still love.

But you,
But to love awaste,
But you I cannot love.

For what is love?
But You.
But for what is suffering?
‘Tis you.

Exquisite Suffering,
Through exquisite partings.

12/28/05