Witch’s Brew

A fern surrounds my life like a hollow maze
In the intricate lattice of love’s first gaze;
Following a pattern that guides me on this road
I reach for her lips beneath the mistletoe.
My love comes forth with the apple of desire,
A tangled taste that takes a life to acquire;
Magic and nightshade in a mandrake stew,
I drink the nighttime herbs in a witch’s brew.
Seared in my skin like a tattoo of her name,
My cry has faded to a touch without shame;
Pulled by a thread that stains the earth and sky

I Love You More Than All the Windows in New York City

The day turned into the city

and the city turned into the mind

and the moving trucks trumbled along

like loud worries speaking over

the bicycle"s idea

which wove between

the more armored vehicles of expression

and over planks left by the construction workers

on a holiday morning when no work was being done

because no matter the day, we tend towards

remaking parts of it — what we said

or did, or how we looked —

and the buildings were like faces

Siege, The: Or, Love's Convert, A Tragi-Comedy - Act 3. Scene 5


To him a Boy in the habit of a Virgin . Leucasia

discover'd in a Chair, and Euthalpe by her .

Mis. I know, for my sake, that she hates all Men;

Who're therfore Miserable 'cause she hates them.

So that I've brought a Curse o'r half the world

By this one single Action. Prethee sing,

And try if in this habit thou canst wooe

Her weary thoughts into a gentle slumber.

Song. Boy.


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