parting is not so near tomorrow

you know what the worst part is—
without the social what-ever-call-it-we,
how we struggle to pay attention
when knowledge was always free—
and tried—made connections
only to that parting meet
mean means to a means—
o and to what end:
“it’s not to you or for”
it’s from you—honest,
see here I can turn,
so long as you
say I am, too,
true to the sound
bound between
me and you,
in deed, you,
and in word, I
stand at hand,
you, I earn,
yearn for it:
that I bend my will,
to meet yours, fierce,
forward-aiming sweet skill
to your sweet-heart—pierce—
and who ever he is, actually,
loves long forgone, or that heat,
known, owed, providing naturally,
meaning where all must true meet
ever sweetly or sorry—

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