Assist me, some extempore god of rhyme;
for I am sure I shall turn sonneteer. ~~ Shakespeare
All my life my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name.
~~ Andre Breton
Desire too cosmic and too close to name
A vibrant nothing and a tortured shame.
My all, my fall–which in one syllable I’ll tell
If you beside me, dear, will ride
the black thunders to Hell.