Whisper soft to me your emotion
In the subtle shades of violet and ambergris.
Do not lift your tongue to speak,
Sword that it can sometimes be,
Without tempering your quickened thoughts
With an overriding peace.
Do not engulf me with your presence
And make me a Jonah to your whale.
Do not refuse the love I have to give
By saying I do not understand.
Choose your words like one who is dying,
Let the very simplest of language be
The gust of wind that fills my sails
And drives me nearer to your destitute country.
And drives me nearer to your destitute country.
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