IN YOUR HAND

Now chimneys still paint the night's thick ruffle: the bearded chimneys of houses are a skirt for pearly stars. The death of the golden-gold trees is long past: Now, in meditations, meditating connections would be seen and unravelled! May they unravel the mysteries of the Gordian knots? - Not by a simple dissection to the extreme, as the Macedonian monarch did his work in one fell swoop, 

but with rational and scholarly reasoning if need be! - Each summer midnight, Time's balmy sultry saturation, Dripped on me like thick molasses, Yet murderous-constant, breathless I waited, I waited, and I myself believed, That far away, in brown-flame trained fair eyes, Waiting for me alone! 

My stubborn attention and trust in thee grew day by day with my patience! I wished no cock-fighting for thee: I voluntarily quitted thy love-circuit, to which thou didst only reply, "It was a good joke!" - I wanted you to be a treasure of my existence, a part of it, an inner cell-molecule, like a transporting glass bubble, carrying the vital oxygen-beads patiently, understandingly 

yet with ant diligence in the order of my prison-body! The World can now languish in helpless hibernation, - and like me, it alone exists, exists, remains in solitary captivity! Every day I relieved our immortal, eternal, together-spent moments, And secretly hoped - foolishly, you do the same: From time to time, if you still remember me, You'll send me a gracious email message, 

and if your heart can still feel me, you ask me: "How are you?