#h. d.

I would hide in your mind as a child hides in an attic,

from Sigil

You see I am still alive but horribly fed-up. It is not within the compass of any language to express to you how fed-up I am. But really this life is brutish & tries my patience almost beyond endurance.

yes, i do, i do love you / yes, i’d burn the world for you

Seek not another Star, O Helen, loved of War, seek not to know too much; the painted script, the scroll, the hieroglyph is written clear, the sail is set, the ship waits in the harbour; grieve not for Clytaemnestra, for the Fates have woven royal purple for her bed, have un-crowned her unhappy head; she sleeps, call not, awake no soul to doom  of old remembered hates; the Nameless-of-many-Names (Amen, you called him here) will re-form, habilitate, re-make his own, even the lost, even the intemperate; asleep? awake? a phantom or a dream, Helen, the sails are set.