Solemnity begs that I should not repeat it,
The massing lack of knowledge blooming in me;
To use apophasis and other secrets
Does not darken my heart as much as the greedy base,
It which begins to surge and suck softly
At the soft marrow, sweetness.
I am the creation of boundless joy-
If I cannot claim to possess it-
For who can point the finger at a one living,
Rather than a one who childishly basks?
Lessons deny the springing of subtle heat;
The saying is the paralipsis – it should not be said,
And shall not be mentioned, at my coy expense.
Paralysis of both tongue and mind
Derived from strict progression,
Sunshine to moonlight, ocean to dam;
Society entreats that the hope be levelled,
And the repetition of mine be held in sleep.
There, the derivation is an object of simplicity;
How I do reject truth for the controlling
Smack of sincerity, painted whispers in daylight!
I cannot tell what has never come to be:
The essence of a life rewritten by the hand,
A governing, not helping offer.
It would be wrong for me to sweep my mouth
In a circle around the dainty words.
I shall not admit that my emotions lead the dance,
That I am lost in curling spontaneity,
That everything I have once followed
Instead becomes a lie when placed with this misdirection.
I dare speak those words, but am dared to close
My eyes, forget the exhalated caress I can remember.