it is my loss
that you, who once were fair
are now cold earth
your breath mere air.
I had thought
you were of different kind
your flesh immortal
deathless, your mind
glowed
like tintillating stars
one look
worth molten gold
you are now still
dead, molded, rot
has taken over
the glad thing that once you were
(Yep, Teasdale and Millay)
No comments:
Post a Comment