Sand Scribblings Inexperienced, I called your idle ante, Supposing the stone you cast to be your heart; (such an easy counterfeit!) Compassion for a whore stays my hand, From rendering it again.
Wednesday, February 19, 2003
Bath-time Rhyme:
I know it is in fashion
Though not in me
To love in parts,
Temporarily.
As though love
Were a spigot or spout
To gush & run,
And then run out.
My heart is a well,
With depth to yearn,
And more to quench--
Should the handle turn,
A love to drench.