A doctor says to me: There is no healing, Tells me just to be, No wishful thinking. His heart a bean, Feelings consumed. Living amused, Is no good for me, Misunderstood by you. Forever twilight, A gradient life, Polite goodbyes. He lives like limes, His hands a vine, No tree remarked, With loved ones dying.
Love forward, for house stewards. His love a bundle, pursuant of son. Fewer brewers at concourse, concord, Honor converse, longer yet somber, An absurd worth, admired, pondered, Fury for her, imperfection sure. Heart curious, head immature, She writes love of commerce, Hearth huge and wallet wanton. Charter martyr departs hearted, Leaves deceived, nature naive, Silent knitting, fixing, sitting, Speaking only of a life weaved.
Hands idle, crossbow fired, Archetype tribal. Life mindful, mostly recital, Model, needle, idol, Last verse final. She writes of family, Bride bridled, man entitled, The brine hers, Facts delightful.
He finds for her nothing, Saving judgement, touching, Loathing bother abundant, Absurd, absence, junction. Usher standing with mother, Prose, another woman lovely, A job done poorly.