STORE-OLTARY

I have always shown the tearful judgments of my eyes: betrayed by furious heartbeats, in the crossfire of flirtatious glances I have guarded the treasured gifts of my compliments! I am the chronicler of unemployment - the impossible and the renunciation of the unhappy, in my welcoming solitude the fires of the night: star-continents wake their negro dreams with me on the map of cosmos, the abandoned! Self-pity strangles me daily, and pessimism offers me a possible theory of chaos: "Why do you work as a laboring prisoner? The pay is already going up!" 

Perhaps if, with sighs that could be heard even in the unknown, with pulsating beats of devouring fervour, the unknown would gently guide me to the shelter of someone, to the island of his harmony, and understanding would be neither a pretense nor an empty word, but would be transformed into an all-powerful, forgiving embrace. It would become a tender altar-altar, a prayer of true pearls on my face. 

My throat is a gnaw when I kneel and confess, my feet are rooted in the ground with a spasm of nerves. - I stopped before the fatal volcanic eruption of kisses: I have saved my one entreaty for more appropriate occasions, I have seen lady-hearts rush to the amber tendrils of embracing arms: persistent greed, a pernicious, insatiable glutton, has devoured both woman and man! 

I have seen the Heart milk its mortal memories as flesh skinned from itself, and the only true remedy for vulnerable treachery: Reason with reason, and lasting forgiveness!