To P.K.
I've been flagrant before, but now I will burn
More strongly, so that, through the spectacle
Of silent night, a single flame may rise
And lick the constellations, a sure sign sent
In triumph, meant to bend the obstinate
Mother of all who bar our love. Eros
And desired, if you see me flash in heaven
Like a star with the chariot's speed or bolting
Cranes' who swallow the leagues with their wings,
Return to me a missive written in your own
Hand, but signed from the well of my heart.
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