You are a standing shadow,
A silhouette before me,
Whom I wish to kindle
By means of conviction
And of well wishes
And of resilience.

Barred in, though,
Are my convictions,
Whimpering while
Fending off sight.

The well, too,
Once a bountiful
Cradle of wishes,
Is all but arid.

My resilience,
without its head,
Surely wanders
In whole silence.

The contours
Of your being—
My earthly desire,
My depth of lust,
My thirst for life—
Fade, rather dull,
With the moonlight
Into some mourning sky.


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