Not God With Wine, Nor

But Beauty Is Set Apart, Beauty Is Cast By The Sea, A Barren Rock, Beauty Is Set About With Wrecks Of Ships.

Love That I Bear Within My Breast How Is My Armour Melted How My Heart

Ardent Yet Chill And Formal, How I Ache To Tempt A Chisel As A Sculptor.

I Spit Honey Out Of My Mouth: Nothing Is Second-best After The Sweet Of Eros.

The Laying Of Fish On The Embers, The Taste Of The Fish, The Feel Of The Texture Of Bread, The Round And The Half-loaf, The Grain Of A Petal, The Rain-bow And The Rain.