of love Were wept upon Her grave And shunned by stars above In mortal life lurks my dismay An Angel stole my heart and Death took Her away She sleeps
Oh no oh no no kidding Reclined amongst these packs of reasons For the smoke the days away into the evenings All these poses of classical torture Ruined
its frame, tempting me always to turn again, again, for each glimpse suggests more and more in some other, farther emptiness. To reach empty space, think away