FastSaying
Proud of my broken heart since thou didst break it,
Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,
Proud of my night since thou with moons dost slake it,
Not to partake thy passion, my humility.
Emily Dickinson
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Ample make this bed. / Make this bed with awe; / In it wait till judgement break / Excellent and fair.
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There came a wind like a bugle; / It quivered through the grass.
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I cannot live with You --/ It would be Life --/ And Life is over there --/ Behind the Shelf.
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Water is taught by thirst.
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