Ought-love

I once loved whom

I ought, and looked to

Teach and

Reach out and

Liberate and in

Some way release:

From family sin and

Awful crime and 

Also yours and

Mine:

Your sadness and

Cold and 

Your inability to

Wield a better

Life for 

Your

Self and 

Your

Tells and tolds 

And holds

And moulds,

And all the

Things that

Flattened

Vivacity,

Buried and 

Submerged, and

Flattened even

And flattened odd,

And closely hurting

And distant smoking.

But of a peace this 

Ought 

Is now slowly

Dying in my soul

And my whole

And my wield 

And my shield,

And my sadness

Is growing

So strong and

Long and

Wronged and

Sung and

[W]rung like

Changes wildly

Recognised: 

Ladders clambered

Madly up, or cloths

Made damp with 

The tears I cried

Through the

Years 

I ought-loved

You as true as

I was 

Able.

And so now

That ought

Is unspooling 

Like tail 

Counted once

Or twice, and then 

Magically thrice 

Or maybe even

More.

And it’s the

Longest tail

I ever did see.

And you and me

Gently 

Loses its edge,

And ends up back

At beginning

Of times

When that tail

Now reforms 

The tale I have 

Recounted

For years

Far

Two

Sad

To

Ever

Remake.

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