these seven samples must suffice : : the earth sings feet above and sky below the knee the heel the tooth the shallow hollow neath my chin her chin its shallow hollow too lips and tongue and breasts and noses waters soft and mighty there is no red here no pain here no me here only melting as the earth sings : the river for me there is no slaking this thirst by drinking no quieting this roar by bread or by meat no quenching this desire by yielding there is no escaping my captor by a coming together there is no relief from this dream by waking no quieting this moan by hearing it complete no pouring myself into wonderful warmth there is no release by finally melting surely , this is a sickness surely , when not a minute passes without the thought of her when not a breath escapes me without the need to touch to hold , to bury my face in her hair and vanish into that river surely , this is a sickness this awful pull this unreasoning this unseeing that sees nothing but her that feels nothing but the need to furl up against her and vanish into that river for this is not volition no , this is not choice this is now river this can not be right this driving rush that asks nothing but obedience blind and absolute that hopes for nothing but release and never stops speaking it is a terrible sickness this one that seizes the heart in its iron grip and seems to leave it up to you when in truth there is no you left to leave it up to for now there is only the heart and the fist and its terrible crushing strength it is the human part of being so very human it is the lie that states in a thousand different guises that you are incomplete without her that you are unfulfilled without her that you are less yourself without her it is the hurt that says in a thousand different tongues that you are nothing but hope without her nothing but that constant aching seething seeking loving lost and roaming tossed and sinking warm and clutching darkly living softly killing wish how can this be me so content a moon ago now so starved how can this be me so in flight a sky ago so heavy now with earth ah , that i could lose myself in something else in something less consuming while still i have some air to call my own untainted by this ceaseless love so fierce that only poetry can heal it for unlike the bruises cuts and breaks and scrapes and burns that start their healing once received ( the body sees to that ) this wound is of the unhealing kind so fierce at times that priests would drown its moan with metal and thong in rivers of blood in grooves of pain to replace her ache for a moment at least with the sting of her sister and yet , and yet , i have to know tell me by what design and by whose does this tender seed sown by love so innocently by a blush perhaps by a sweet smile a kiss a tender eye a touch by one hand upon another with no harm planned nor pain intended tell me by what design and by whose does this tender seed thus planted into soil of understanding turn parasite turn tentacles turn drooling turn strands then shackles then terrible sickness by no will of mine ( and so i swear ) by no will of hers ( and so i swear ) by only the voice of one heart caught by another though heard by these strands so fierce and strong only song can sever but whence do they spring these tiny strands so small at first as to not be seen that can grow to turn a nothing but sky into terrible darkness how do they grow these tiny strands from hand on hand and tongue on tongue to turn a nothing but laughter to a nothing but ache and so i wonder what endurance what steadiness of hand what surgical skill will it take what masterful incisions and delicate cuttings must succeed that the sickness and its innocent heart be severed that the patient may still live that the sharing may remain while the terrible sickness returns to earth to shatter this , my love , is the trial of spirit living here : the tide gingerly the lips collide the honey of the tongue melts to form a glow a rush , a river love 's forever rising tide now innocent and young surging in a slowly mounting quiver ah , this moment 's so sweet to touch sweet to feel harboring such gently surreal pleasure but time is so hard to catch hard to hold when dreams all hatch awed by her old mythical treasure sanguineous , the rising head enchanted to the core races for a pain unsought , unchosen passions gasp and cry instead of laughing like before wasted , bleeding , slain forgotten , frozen this moment is hard to find hard to view a warm and blind and lost and untrue dawning but time is so hard to catch hard to hold when lives all hatch true to her old unceasing spawning : the tender lie will my heart and her tender lie be for me to know as a light or a woe to cry or a wound to show maybe more like a prayer to say or a bond to break or perhaps as a far away or a grave mistake maybe love and her ache will pass me by if i pledge my past and would cease to try but then my heart and whatever that i be we come to you as you come to me in your eyes i see shadows laugh as i drink your grace and i wonder on whose behalf do they leave their trace in the warmth of your deep embrace i can feel no pain nor the world that i have to face if i would maintain seems like love up and caught me on the run with the chains i trail and the needs i shun but for you i 'm a better man for sure i could see myself and i would endure i do n't know why you take for granted i am yours when i belong to no one i 'm torn and i bleed and i 'm left enchanted yet you lie and you say that no harm is done will this life and the things i chase be for me to know as a lie or a futile race or a seed to sow maybe more like a brand new day or a chance to take or perhaps as a field of play with my soul at stake maybe life and her lust will pass me by if i trust my wings and would dare to fly maybe then i shall be what i can be i shall know the sky i shall sail and see : the fever colossal the mountain moving at speed across space capitulating : the sharing i glean and i gather reflections of time to sing and to savor for a while until it is over they shine and they glitter they whisper and chime to touch and to talk to me awhile until it is over with a heartful of things to say i have rivers to tell but if i ca n't begin i may as well be gone with love as my fortress and sin as my guise if i could just share a little while into it is over and while that tenderness is hard to find is so hard to show is so hard to know i find that nonetheless to dream about but to do without is harder still : the fading silent by the fire you rose to retire slowly as you fingered your hair and then lingered and then you turned to me and you smiled at what you saw and what i saw was how you faded into leaving my heart in despair my eyes in awe : :105 : : alwyn stirred , opened her eyes , and asked him where he had been , and what time was it ?