No different, tantamount to her;
The one subsists thought to have died.
Plaintive moments blossom weeds;
Regenerate reveries petrify.
Free! it told her . . . Free! it said.
She, on knee, the pensive nun—
Now disabused, the guilt sets in.
Though love persists, she misses one.
The planes of heart, unparallel
To those of mind (the lunar core),
Span distances, make corners cruel
And then dissent, shape paramours.
Desiccated, wizened fault!—
Engenders posthumous desire,
This nascent creature, filling roles,
Weeps to feel this ember’s fire.