No. Of my heart I will make a tower
and stand on its very edge,
where nothing else exists—just once again pain
and what cannot be said, and once again world.
Once again in all that vastness
now dark, now light again, the single thing I am,
one final face confronting
what can never be appeased.
That ultimate face, enduring as stone,
at one with its gravity,
drawn by distances that could dissolve it
into some promise of the sacred.
New Poems
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