.
Must your arms
Be a circle of stones
Locked with truest heavens
Embracing me?

Must your hair
Branch in a wood so deep
Impenetrable and unspeaking
Where lost are souls?

O how your love was so tall,
Such a frame for me to climb,
But I never could see stars up there
From shy ground I felt you looking down.

Must your eyes
Make me see as someone
Who suffered lifelong blind
Lidless in the sun?

*O how your love was precious,
A plaything just to dole out only,
The driest morsel after long famine
And I, a feather in winds without sky.