Your beauty no more than I can take
My words, that show, these rehearsals make.
I seek the gathering sun in this heart
Whose mud and stone drive me apart;
As from myself I want another I, that
Shines where darkness blots my sky.
And wheels over heaven I dare not count,
Unless by substance I increase amount,
Of those faults whose relief is sweet
By perfection stealing base needs from me.
As less than human I keep safe the crown
For shall be when it is underground:
Then do I know desire alone’s no infirmity
Which meets not the match that burns eternity.

©Dean J. Baker

-excerpt from The Mythologies Of Love, 90 pages, $14.99

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