A bishop, priestess,
My Un Wed Mistress,
Thou hath shot
A game, a roulette,
Through my head,
An Un worded piece,
A hot molten Bullet,
one art,
Falling onto thy leaf,
O my favourite Poet,
How have i gotten the View,
To muster those drops of sweat
Few, and blood and drops of Wine too,
one art,
How have i gotten the chance
To the tune of Thy words like rhyme
To dance, I would've conquered the world,
~
one art,
A Cohen, A Bishop,
On me, when Thou drop,
i try to hold Thine
Your red Divine.
{Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan’t have lied.
It’s evident the art of losing’s not too hard to master, }
Such a horrendous
Disaster.
[* Note: on a poem by E.Bishop and on a prosaic poem with very naturally embedded rhyme scheme.]
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