Poem – “I Believe in Beauty as a Forethought” – Romance

By

Make of the torment,
What thou will,
Make of it.
The priests call cues of negligence,
Make faces ripe with consequence.
And deliver judgement,
Like God in deliverance.
Oh, woman! A passion of mine.

A careful consideration,
To what may be beautiful
,
Has long been beautiful,
Beside me, in her endearment.
Beauty makes apples,
And apples for breasts.

I am tired of loathing
The external,

Of my sordid disposition,
Of my farewell declaration.
Of my mimicked beauty,
Of all you see of me.

Let me lick thy throat,
For guilt has overthrown me,

From the crown of achievement.
Deceit! Give me wielding,
Of all immeasurable beauty.
Have I North before South?

Have I lips before groin?
Have I mind before loin?
Lovely is her exterior, so vivid with life,
Aromas, and the fertility of the soil.
Of ocean breeze, and Autumn leaves.
Of stillness in death, and stillness in love.

I make of her, what I have always willed,
Until the day I dine on her form
.

It is a form of violet ashes, and much to be mused.