I had thought to hoard your beauty,
to store it safe and proud
in that place where you’d amused me
and none else would be allowed.
But you crept out through the tower,
and you burst out into World.
Now you perfume your universe
with circus, peacocks, clouds. . . .
while I stay locked in duty
with my memory and my
almost I wrote. A miser’s bootylost!!! Hyperbole for the horde.)