"I read of women who have been found disregarding class, the heavy book
Bearing the sombre tone, we anyway tremble whilst we are broken down.
What is love? o what is love? the tip of a tongue, a silk white dove.
that will not fight and is crushed by speculation, a sinful breast
Cleansed, the surprising lightness in weight, the emphasis returned to
Provocation, that is the dead weight, that we cannot speak until
And divided by omission are invited to attend to the traffic signals,
Indicating slips don't for one second imagine that i am in the least
Grace Lake, 'Silk & Wild Tulips'