Drunk with words love scours temper’s wound, my daily portion given me. No oaths cheapen.…

I object: bully, pederast, Platonist. Keyed upon the smiling omens, wanton political animal, whose sleeve…

God, spoused, groans. Fields quick with ash-white mice, doves stream in darkness, pale flesh wound…

Aurora’s fair wind drives, and morning blossoms golden as the honey of a hundred hives,…

Launcelot: perfect body of light. He dreams of us moving like shadows to tempt him…