Desolate

I am desolate for beauty,

Desolate to feel the night between us,

Desolate to be forbidden.

There was a pale-mooned caryatid

Holding the pain of refusal high,

Holding the careful hurt on high.

I am desolate for beauty,

Desolate for the restraint of cool things.

Selma Derry

[3rt]