• Gift Of A Poem

    I bring you the child of an Idumaean night!
    Black, with wing bleeding, pale and unfeathered,
    Through the glass burnt with incense and gold,
    Through the panes, frozen, and still gloomy, alas... more »

  • The Afternoon Of A Faun

    These nymphs I would perpetuate.

    So clear
    Their light carnation, that it floats in the air... more »