woe is she!

“tell her what you’re going to do beforehand”,
she said to me, over her breath— “not with a woman”,

I thought, she deserves the surprise, fright or flight;
see how “with faith we fly”, or cry through the night,

in such silent reverie or proud and loud stylings
as would bring the old, gold times, with glad tidings

to those strange strangers of bold and best intentions,
turning the world’s words round—despite conventions—

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