Or A Moratorium Holding on the decaying patterns of an apparent destruction & interrogated by night spies from which everyone lies my love hateful as once was kind in this allegory is shrouded. For was only yesternight out of a worthless seconding that the yearning went yonder & see all that bitterness has returned back here today. But how how deduce the longing when in the midst of a recent tempest a vintage sadness sets out to subjugate you. Must we willingly sentence ourselves to the narcotic erotic of a hanged woman whose mouth & limbs droop to the ground in sound or remain resilient with reason & condemn the ill-subliminal the feminine you, to a benighted eagerness which may every minute terror lift. How then must one describe the dismissal if not in a delphian lament against sorrow what now could be composed of when but stoically submerged & complicated in my own thinking of you, never here somewhat always tearing through. next