Oct 18 2019

For wont of what will not, will not—but may—
you are, by will; if not, then sleep to dream
a light, in flight, for song, carried away,
a tuned and strung euphonic cosmic beam.
What is the little wording of our means?
Should morning come, too late, when will we wake?
To cast aside the bed sheets—rend the seams—
rise with the sun as if the sun’s at stake.
For want of time, will not, will not—but will.
Without us, or within, tomorrow comes.
Perchance, askance, offbeat, but beating, still,
if Liberty can’t ring, Subversion hums.
What does a vow of marriage mean, to you?
I’m sure, alike, of what you always knew.

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