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s mortal recoil</p><p id="842c">When the heart is refound, but the slumping body</p><p id="5b98">Slacks off starkly to the sides.</p><p id="e621">What can one do but await till the next retrial?</p><p id="d86a">What can it do?</p><p id="df44">What must you do?</p><p id="c5c4">What shan’t I do?</p><p id="c362">Barren you are, but ever contagious still —</p><p id="7f3b">Awaiting me there, all this time —</p><p id="bd95">Barren to the kissed and supped breast —</p><p id="c95a">Nakedly erstwhile, groping all touch aside;</p><p id="1401">That is my sign to sigh.</p><p id="b961">Not like the last, is the sole, simple remark to this;</p><p id="946d">And to that, the dust is blown, and the candle is out —</p><p id="8141">Must I demur over it for much more?</p><p id="6d92">Lover’s brutal bare backsides —</p><p id="47f5">You jest, you jest!</p><p id="89cf">And to that, the no further coil is recalled —</p><p id="abb3">I demur fondly, as eagerly as it must.</p><p id="1f8c">I had no further say, hereafter.</p><p id="5634">Swings the drumming beat no more.</p><div id="c8ea" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/days-reflection-a-tidy-poem-of-a-traveler-for-restless-folk-bd642a23afa2"> <div> <div> <h2>Day’s Reflection — A Tidy Poem Of A Traveler; For Restless Folk</h2> <div><h3>A Writer Is at Block; Whilst a lover is further away, at lovable sexiness, with He, as she must — as she must. A Writer…</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*JF9zRKcc3Iu23xUGvDTYZw.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="9466">COME <b><i>ALONG WITH THE <a href="https://medium.com/@joanieadamms/subscribe">DOCTOR’S NEWSLETTER</a></i></b></p><figure id="b11a"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*L5DXJrq78g30u0aimk_uUQ.jpeg"><figcaption><b>JAR THAT TOMMYROT! — <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Katherine_Hepburn,_1938.jpg">Katharine Hepburn — 1938</a></b></figcaption></figure><p id="9dc7"><b><i>A TRUE GAME OF SOLITARE:</i></b></p><div id="4393" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/a-true-game-of-solitare-european-canon-a08016c4c113"> <div> <div> <h2>A True Game Of

Options

Solitare — European Canon</h2> <div><h3>To Be Human Is To Be Together Yet Staying All Alone — Universal Is Her Trust In You Now.</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*ArRNdDrdTPKHEr2mWL8_OQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="043c"><b><i>Marches Of Gold; Our Publication:</i></b></p><div id="3109" class="link-block"> <a href="https://medium.com/marches-of-gold"> <div> <div> <h2>Marches Of Gold</h2> <div><h3>Might I entice and welcome one to a precious center of adoration for Words; A Publication; A Curation — May the…</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*Phgf9mJLiS4BMB62wWTYOg.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="7e3f"><b><i>A BANQUET OF STORIES FOR YOUR JOURNEY’S END</i></b></p><div id="1a39" class="link-block"> <a href="https://medium.com/@joanieadamms/list/adc523988467"> <div> <div> <h2>A Banquet Of Stories </h2> <div><h3>For those endearing. </h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*7180a457d01e903cc49f71b4120c3f17564de32d.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="d24c">As ever, Dear <i>Reader</i>.</p><h2 id="25c3">Join The Power of Poetry. 💚 Poetry Playground // Easy Grant Guide!</h2><div id="026c" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/the-power-of-poetry-3d8dfd2beecc"> <div> <div> <h2>The Power of Poetry</h2> <div><h3>how to submit? [update August 2023]</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*OfAwmC7ROJ7Why-jpZe6FQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

When To Love; When We Run And Face Our Hide — A Poem For Lover’s Lost

When the Heart is Heavy and Burdened with Many Toils — who shall answer then? — who but a stealing voice.

William-Adolphe Bouguereau — Lost Pleiad (1884)

Love calls you by your name —

Love remains wistful, if you forget

And bash its aimless intentions —

Love remains stalwart for the fostering

Game it plays upon the heart

After the role of the last,

Never gets refilled —

Love calls you by your name now —

For the war; after the parties;

Through the stark night had.

I wished I remained to love

By past rejoinders

But that is all deeply

Demurred in mystery to me —

To remain in that love anymore.

When to love; when we run and face our hide.

The soft skin of our notions

The daring to remain enclosed

Wherein all tenderness was lost

In the reiling torment of

Losing you, that love

In all those years.

When to love; when we’re chasing our hide.

To cull it away — to crawl,

Under the sheets and tattered cloth —

When is that complexion of love

Recalling you again?

Tell us, oh great enlightened one.

When the great introspecting prison

Is calling Hugo a foreign boss —

When the man is depressed it is

Deeply rejoiced, and hardly bounced

Too loud again.

When the woman sighs and peddles

The sexlessness from this bodies

Hammered out thumbs and thighs —

With the contagious glassy eyes —

The body cannot whilst she must go without.

Ten minutes is an eternity awaiting the firing mark

When it is eagerly deferring to its own lover’s mortal recoil

When the heart is refound, but the slumping body

Slacks off starkly to the sides.

What can one do but await till the next retrial?

What can it do?

What must you do?

What shan’t I do?

Barren you are, but ever contagious still —

Awaiting me there, all this time —

Barren to the kissed and supped breast —

Nakedly erstwhile, groping all touch aside;

That is my sign to sigh.

Not like the last, is the sole, simple remark to this;

And to that, the dust is blown, and the candle is out —

Must I demur over it for much more?

Lover’s brutal bare backsides —

You jest, you jest!

And to that, the no further coil is recalled —

I demur fondly, as eagerly as it must.

I had no further say, hereafter.

Swings the drumming beat no more.

COME ALONG WITH THE DOCTOR’S NEWSLETTER

JAR THAT TOMMYROT! — Katharine Hepburn — 1938

A TRUE GAME OF SOLITARE:

Marches Of Gold; Our Publication:

A BANQUET OF STORIES FOR YOUR JOURNEY’S END

As ever, Dear Reader.

Join The Power of Poetry. 💚 Poetry Playground // Easy Grant Guide!

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