Look in my eyes with thy sweet eyes intently,
give me your hand and let me press it gently.
-Mrs. Dalloway
I've imagined you ten or twenty times,
as the wings of the sunset sink and close
around your blushing face and neck,
held in my red, red hands.
Your knees, however, have long since
gone cold for me. They tremble for others.
My ambition, also, shook and
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