Work Text:
A honey-kissed lover’s tendernes;
sweet words of abounding praise.
I know not of these in this life that I
weave; this great work I unravel each day.
This solitude burns so familiar;
a promised pain cloaked in night.
My heart brimming over and fears growing
older; cold sorrow seeping into light.
So Father, forgive my asking this;
I beg of you, Lord, I pray.
This need to be loved, so below, as above:
O God, take it, please take it away.
O God, won’t you take it away?