I endure

Hyacinth garden

In the bewitching night

not wax of burning candle

more or less fragrant darkness

this thing from your ascended heart  

still she was with violets

borne the flower of ecstasy

her fragrance blossoms

the smooth lover

she might not discern

in my garden I endure

not much is known

I was perceived embodied

only my words

deepest yearnings

I am empty now obscure

My mislaid brininess

on the rolling roar of the sea

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