RDW's poems

10- Melancholia Is

The kissing bit was good.  When I sat up
I was embarrassed: all my clothes were dust.
I wore your cloak.  We walked.  I kissed your lips
Sweet Prince!  We had our time of sudden lust

We all start love as strangers.  That can’t last
It’s hope and ignorance that set us free
until we meet our limits – and go past:
past care, past help, past mercy.  Weep with me

There’s no enchantment now inside my head
You’re not a Prince, as even I can see.
I’m staying here.  Here is my narrow bed,
my radio, my lamp, and my TV

Melancholia is:
“as good a state as any, I suppose”
“I don’t feel anything” says Briar Rose

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