Say to the soul, sigh
so kind & honest he seems
to be when he greets others
courteously.
This abrogator of responsbility
this pretended fakir;
I cannot trust with my eyes’ intelligence
& I was stung in my heart, grievously.
He, dressed in pretended humility she
hoping she’ll prevaricate her way
into heaven.
She does not understand that if she
fails to expel the sycophants’
doctine of false romance
all is lost
instead, let us use our wits remorselessly 
we were blessed by the first sweet trouble
of our hearts
where the sighs, tears and desires
of all the hours, seasons. decades,
of slow decay, have not yet blown
our hearts away.

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