gift…I could make love out of words as
a potter makes cups out of clay love
that overthrows empires, love that
binds two hearts together come
hellfire and brimstones…for sixpence a
line, I could cause a riot in a
nunnery…but now
I have lost my gift.
(not finding this easy)
It's as if my quill is broken. As if
the organ of my imagination has dried
up. As if the proud tower of my genius
has collapsed.
