Love I have seen – yet STILL not expressed

How can love exist 

with only wordy expression?

No worldly 

secession nor even a small

concession from the 

object – which is 

you! – 

subjected to 

so many appeals?

And as my life has 

unreeled its selves, like cheeky 

elves of inquisitive role,

the soul I did place 

at your disposition is still

there awaiting 

a kind of dis

position: and just as before,

and just as in June,

and just as soon as you 

lent me your 

at-

tensions

terribly tightening and

terrribly confusing, 

making me think

of how maybe you were using 

me,

and then hurriedly in September,

and then really nothing since the saddest

of moment,

that when I still do not under-

stand,

even so 

the fool I clearly am

still clearly intends 

to overcome pretences:

your game of mad

ignored 

un

doing:

the untooling of 

everything 

I dreamed.

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