Impressions of Sorrow

"Kiss my lips," said he,"and taste
Eternal sorrow, for that is all I know.
Taste the ash upon my tongue,
Taste the dust of long forgotten times,
And relish it, for happiness is solitary,
Transient, Pointillist, suffocated
by the fears of life,
by the moments of ungratefulness,
By the hatred of one's self,
And Thus, in consequence,
Love is mutinous, Perfidious,
and words are Trivial
And lips are poisonous
And memories are dust and ash."

"So kiss my lips.
And there where corners garnish only Webs
And tangled Moths in fading gossamer,
There perhaps a tyndall sun may glow,
Amber on the floating particles,
Yellow on the curtain lace,
kaleidoscoping on the pastel sofa arm
And on the English rug."

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