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I thought it was Her I saw, but was it now
or a fatamorgana of the dying suns
which between the arches of our moons
cast a shadow backwards for love
was as a passing through the orchards
in which was planted this poetry
that She may notice the sand disappear'd
for the mourning hearth watered
the dried seeds which then sprouted
to make a lush garden for I and Her.
Ye, I kow that I loved her there and then
but that is the fate of us to grasp
for what is lost is never gained again
but she was my Omar Khayyam
I wrote worlds into this, to be with her
and endured Alighieris Hellscape
alone and without guidance made way
all to be with Her, once more, again
for she was my mother, lover and daughter
but we never were husband and wife. |