My Weeping One
My weeping one asleep, I swiftly rose,
moved forward into brittle breathing air.
Crept through the icy streets on tender toes.
My weeping one asleep, I left her there.
And looking back but once, I hurried on,
no choice could I have known there on that night,
that hurt and horrors could be overthrown.
My weeping one asleep, I fled in fright.
And gnawing nights like this one when I fear
the moist and melting moan of passion's pain.
Though arching aching sighs I'll surely hear,
My weeping one's still sleeping in the rain.