Often told to be careful,
when learning more of what I love,
Study the intricacies, but
Beware the grasping sun.
Yet I still love the little things,
all the sneaky tricks,
clockwork on the inside
that makes a lover tick
Amongst precious literature,
the triple entendre,
Syntax and the metaphor
the play within a play.
Excitement at the unknown,
the roses’ other name,
echo, shadow, spirit flesh,
the voice that never came.
Now, my dear Horatio
Dear Sebastian Flyte,
Christophe, Sphinx and W. H,
Through darkness your words fight
Tiny Shreds of Starlight,
Woven by the fates,
A Thousand steps by candlelight,
Shrouds and wives who wept.
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