Tuesday, December 27, 2005


You thought that I should be afraid
To look you in the eye.
You just don’t know what I’ve become
That I’m not shocked to die.

Yet somehow I resented you—
Oh, it’s not for me I curse.
It’s just that I don’t like the thief
Who makes the small the worse.

Then I must remind that you
Were formed by my choice thus,
That day that man let woman fall—
But let’s get back to us…

I saw your ugly nostrils
The contortions of your face.
You think that it should strike some fear
But some I know of grace.

I thought our grasps had met just then
(As someday they will be)
But what I knew and you did not:
I’m not reckoned unto thee.

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