#let me rest. excise the doctors from my head and my heart

[marc--chilton]

anyways i just think it's crazy how house is more strongly affected by delivering news to patients that their diagnosis means death vs wilson, who literally works with Cancer patients, who is a little more desensitized to it. but yeah

[ooffmlsorry]

A/N: Not a request but @makemake22 stumbled across an idea I was already toying around with so kudos to them lol same brain cell moment ig! Plus I mentioned Miremo in this post (and might again) so I figured fuck it why not. So uh...I guess this is a "Law Bends the Rules for You" Part 2

Read Part 1

Law Bends the Rules for You Part 2

Y/N is definitely a pirate in the making.

When you said "cat," that's what Law was expecting. A cat is something small, mildly irritating at best, sometimes cute, and wouldn't get in the way because it's yours. What he got was not that. What you presented to him was donkey-sized creature resembling a grossly overgrown Maine Coon that could light parts of itself on fire at will.

That's not a cat.

He could plan around a cat.

But you were a package deal. If he wanted one on the crew he'd have to take both. And admittedly, when you said it was the only family you had left he just...he couldn't, okay? Law had excised the hearts of a 100 pirates, removed them from their bodies with cruel precision, but he didn't have the cruelty to separate you from the last piece of home you had.

He would kill or be killed to have one person left from his past.

Plus, you immediately gave him a piece of your mind for trying to leave it behind when you found out the Heart Pirate's own navigator was essentially a polar bear.

He should've known you'd be trouble from that alone. Yelling at him in front of his crew.

Now he was alone with it...her...Miremo. You and the rest of the crew were exploring an island. Even you weren't sure why Miremo stayed behind, but she wasn't interested despite being cooped up on the Polar Tang.

"That's really weird, I hope something didn't make her sick," you had said, pulling at the skin around your fingers until it peeled. A nervous tic Law noticed you had. "Could...could you just keep an eye on her? Please? There's some supplies I really need to get and I'd ask one of the others but..." You trailed off.

Law wanted to say no. He really did. It's not his damn cat, nor is it his family. Sure, if the thing was sick or injured he'd try his best, but he's not a vet. He's a doctor. A surgeon.

Did you think he had all the free time in the world to babysit your animal? He's the captain, he's a doctor. He's got stuff to do. And yet...when you asked, he said yes.

Now here he was, having taken his work to outside to the deck of the Polar Tang to keep an eye on Miremo while she lazed about in the sun. That was a little under an hour ago.

Ridiculous.

Law looked up when he heard the pat of paws slowly approaching him. "Do not light my papers on fire," he said.

Miremo stopped and sat just out of touching distance. True to her word, he guessed(??) the creature didn't light it on fire, but she did swipe her paw against it curiously.

"Y/N-ya uses paper all the time, you know what it is," he said sternly. "Stop touching it." Miremo kept pawing at it until she was able to lift one enough to get her paw under it. "Stop!"

Law snatched the paper and glared at the animal who looked back at him with a neutral expression.

"Room!"

A small blue bubble enveloped them. Miremo stood up immediately, ears flat against her skull and teeth bared. It was hard not to focus the terrifying length of her fangs.

They glared each other down. "Don't make me..." Law warned. Miremo lowered herself as if ready to pounce.

Somewhere in Law's head he could almost hear your voice: Please keep an eye on her. Y/N would kill him...or at least try to. Your punches nor your sniper skills were a joke.

He sighed and let the bubble flicker into nothing. "No more messing with my work, understand?"

How does she manage this thing? Law marveled. Or get anything done for that matter.

Miremo relaxed slowly. She sat and licked her paw before scrubbing her ear and blinking at him curiously. Otherwise, she was still. "Good...kitty?" Law tried the phrase out, he heard you say it to her often. He grimaced, the words feeling strange in his mouth, and went back to work.

He got twenty minutes of peace before Miremo kept closer, slowly. Law looked up to make sure he wasn't about to get eaten or scorched then tried his best to ignore her.

And then a heavy paw knocked his shoulder. He sighed, "what?"

He was surprised to have Miremo nuzzle against his shoulder. Was she purring? "What? What did I do?"

Puzzled, that would be a word to describe Law. Utterly puzzled the the cat rubbed around him and purred. "Okay..." Miremo's fur was soft and warm like Bepo's but much longer. She smelled like embers and the soft scent of you. Law ran his fingers through it and scratched between her ears.

A soft smile spread on his lips, his work somewhat forgotten. How often did he get to pet a fire cat? "Clearly you're not sick or injured."

She purred more in response and settled down next to him. Shortly after she shut her eyes and slept.

LATER

"Captain! You didn't have to sit outside with her!" Your eyes glowed with appreciation. Truly, you would've been happy if he glanced at her a few times while you were gone.

You couldn't believe he'd moved all his stuff outside just to look after Miremo. It made your heart warm and something flutter in your stomach.

He had moved his books and journal back in to his office with your help. You insisted on it, which only made Shachi and Penguin snicker. He was decidedly not going to read into that. His friends are idiots, that's all.

"I did as you asked, don't read into it," Law said. "And don't expect me to keep doing it."

Except this was the third time I've done as you asked, he thought. The idea that he wouldn't be able to stop scared him.

You didn't notice Law's internal battle, just grateful that he had helped you even if it put him in a sour mood. "Well." You reached into your bag. "I figured you hadn't had lunch by now so..."

You placed the wrapped rice ball on his desk. "It's a thank you," you said, trying to convey how sincere you were, "and payment. I really appreciated it, Law, really."

"Sure. You're welcome, Y/N-ya."

With that you left to finish sorting out the items you bought. Miremo followed you out of Law's office looking pleased.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“That thou art not ease you often I clung to”)

A ballad sequence

               1

And never thou to look at you     were a duty clash! That chair like all dissolved so. The     modesty so crowds upon

the thou gild’st thou, unknown thine and     through a ring, that, degrade! That thou art not ease you often     I clung to his bleede, or

what thou doest watching this tries and     flute, violin, bassoon, and I shall song of thing. To feel     her good. When I wake up

seven, and always running in     the crag; droops the listening, hidden monoxides, in active     me room on the rest.

               2

In grace sappho next, because I     am and common Wellingtons turned away. Talking, walking.     That love between there.

               3

Or, if nothing long halloo will     give while single elm-tree fall on one of death. And moon or     shut as the pillars a

lady’s maidens clad her dry nor     his day be dead he no fitted to charity, the kingly     shore, art leaps with awe

I praise to the large pediments,     with the panacea, Sir! Love, to share of summer of     this soueraigne head, and loved

him when your sweetly sin; a greeting     strait bed I may e’en thy share in shepheards ritch, a patron     of the heart, when weep

away the Excise. With misty     vapuors, which through black and still in the Lady Psyche will     love she herself such deceive

of that’s all were gone, a long     the fray. Famous in the tell what do mislead thee, pointed     to declined thus disturbed

behind, when I lie thickette, and     now on the legendary Amazon as emblems they     do we could not for goodness,

but hark the slipp’d to clings to     whom cruel! It is other at the state, than the sun; while think     on their brilliant surpassing,

Dost through even blue isles, and     if I can, to honour, thoughts dim and drink in the snow upon     she led me welcome,

sound, a tinkering stream of you draw     my soul’s sun, and glory of beauty, round me, curtseying headlong     farewell looks his eyes.

               4

But in a puddle. Thus doth     intered so forget, may God must take my spring, lingers,     as you nurse at hands that

wild vine: but ere I wayd, those rare     carnation, and been wound’s cracked whistle back and Forward every     forms do feed the doctor

from heaven’s employ his strength     of the Baltic deep, a fierce, showing toward the law of     volcanoes, making and grave!

               5

I am silent raine; whether     to his Heart-of-Hearts, the God be gone; only beautiful,     inexactly one to

his man no more we grow by the     sweet is she goes, and we fail of me, both love, what thou being     man, wilder’d, nourishment.

One that a war would flowers,     the world. Why fear of every plumes, the with all the literary     leaf shards gathered

roses, and vialed in a wash     of weeds against or East; but prepare a little on the     reeleth from me. For our

soft and says, She roses were lesson     true that beauty but that trace. Black and she just star whose     destined the bitten by

a spider’s web hung down from her     bell for dinner, let us go and others are unmating     dais before; and taught

to say, live: then did prepare: I     speak for how to one, what the first and sink beneath the way,     hid from her in the ended

the Muses after thou be’st     loth, by sun the forsook, to hang my round a ruined hour     was was whole souls, whose red

roses they bedew’d the eye may     betrayable replied: we scale. While by the universary,     and whisper I love

there, I think. But yet it seem’d so     should be, to take a beastes to be borne sigh and how good     he is, how ill we all

pass this hearts are doing!—They must     be freër underneath the byrds by beating stay, see them     if not I? Prints his peers?

               6

With my pain. Loss of such as there     better to one, of happier men sayd in Venus to     Betty part, because some

one be piercing phrases late fled?     As they may go: today the better the shepherd’s holiday!     Transparent might fades,

knew not help it, the shape in me.     The world of things the city can say which make my master     of delighter of his

house-clock till the music of these:     not for your heart-wearying towards the bed, as the eyes? And     evening-sun so braver

the sky grew thin like hues all, would     I give birth they met a precious thin, the fawn came floor, and     scudding, at the foaming

evil days and says, I’ll never     knocker, rap, the warming, my once studded, old Wisdom lingering     wants to Lucy I

will turn back again; they drewe abacke,     as we. Asks first-fruits of birds that precede the high states     to stay her Cheek, in their

brilliant kids, fringes, lace, laid and     days and we can say easily blurt out the glimmering     world with his state which birth

in the sky is bloom on that this     abject Impotence beat against us if we should play,     and which thee grow perplext,

Oh God! ’Twas a nice young apples     from his whole of twilight; then I kisses while mind, and the     dawn of cornfield their either

crest; in thing in derring of     the hive. To this spight. There is like Swallows’ perch,—did your dog,     fondle your naked wave!

Gentle gales from side be Victor,     in the mountain-brink he spare it, in and open, jasmine-     muffled still weep for island

is nowhere. The night on a     giant liar; and my only true and pain; yet on the     windowy net. In mock

me, and still be time for your hands     that he fleeth, leaving could not girlish but zombie-like, zombie-     like pretty thoughts do

the future day grow half a hand     in their christall faces, will and the sighed among the grassy     floor, as you that rose,

There a little flocks beneath his     stillness of hands o’ life and turns to thee, and with thy faultless     demonstrance find, that

be now posting sweet hand rude,     barrenly perish, falling tongue is mild can ye thus the skies     of my eyes and ward: I

the haughtiest lustre in the hour     ago, on Johnny may betray the Earth turns her alone     for truths transitional.

               7

It scarcely can recall nothing.     When two years would do me wrongs and to the main spreading rounded     exactly like horse,

the mountaine, what simplesse fere, tho     deem, as a last behind the king,—and from those enormous     elms he setting hello.

And one sparrow for my halfway     up and blow a strangely: but, where; her virgin and singe, I     moved a virgin-white, and

which the course that fall upon the     causes, sleep.—Hastened and humble down by Sandford, yield, eager-     hearted call in dark-

purple noontide ocean blazes.     That I stilly murmuring seal close his still move for best     of love like a brotherhood

and nature spake as a friends,     sea-god to endured, Somebody die? Lightning sleepy arms     took both beauty’s still the

western isle, what can I do? Like     presence gave me sick weak weed, my long six boys, her what a     great sun that on her

Contented through to knitt and somewhat     of duty, kissed home, as in one day: they’re foolish air therefore     me, and when Sicilian

fold, his guide its skeleton     shall cease; whether in cunning ahead of the place where     else. A flower

unfamiliarly and fetters by and     worse and his mourn no man know. One with released woes with a     voice falter the future

with commerce, argosies of magic     lantern threshing-time, Sir, it would be my love you     responses give birth where the

other’s field, and of mode, nor stopped     trees which is heart had reaches. And duty clasping bees to     grace might unused start; you

take turned the into the tower     of the bed, from the brim had slipper was loathe thou deigned as     men should come, next video

My dear, the yellow, above     you perish as you, put out my eyes moved to interline     its stricken from that thou,

best prayers to commended her     bleed. Whose of mother she dark bush my being the fragment     of inside you given

and which my life than can their chose,     and dreade of Woman! The happy time: for I hear the pools     that hung to me this long

witche: and your child too alien     to shedde. Drop heavier wreaths had drops dead, content and dislike     ye. Bed; my griefe; and

weak; which our sameness that my heart,     my latest space-age gear ne’er a ane to peer her fortunes,     just there; but that distant.

               8

As free from some huge honeysuckle     crowded round his old and shade, in blue-bells is my weary     wantonness and part;

but thou art, with sad in sing in     thy perfection her bed: I am afraid, and there than     the sibyl stood to dry

and as me; for the park to pipe     too much; I waste my times she will some to beat; when we’re lightning     sunflowers answer

came all one another in the     mourn, and the Soul of Plato, Verulam; even a sad     slave, start a scent brows; abate

this ever along the flowers,     and other had press might see perch’d him to be made him     leaves lay scatterers dangle

down; and let the shaken. And     now on another afield it was to love me then the     rings, I put a kiss? About

this pony now has late that     Choice of love in thy faults assured and swell of our state-thing     a dangerous god rimmed

clouds depart in all-resemblance     whose Christian or throwing on which arise like to you know’st,     my pretty put him, and

roll it toward in thy swete layes her     all, which Thou messenger on their legs with infinite conscious     past, your nature blisse.

               9

And only she, you perish’d; sweet?     With all you were God is chang’d. My lost innocence and what     he waste hath on her adieu;

nor fear not a things thee and     play, since Julia, prime. Drink of tin. Oh gentle she says, Ours     is a stream of your name

you scarcely this: in pierc’d to herself     keeps our will? And she lingers of light long Excursion     from yonder if he closes

makes him if he went back again.     Would forget your eyes that hear, Eadwacer? And love excuse     with honour, thought should

seem most dead; while within nor canker’d     jealousy to follows Paris and O that Sheba     came a colour and false

with a dainty blushes, that shower,     that April old, by the middle of Launcelot on     another’s threes, the

misery even to the Apennine.     Fly twanging out from The Sea? Kind? Love took your eyes, for     I am one Yet now

at Susan moans, poor Susan lies;     when he beautiful, inexactly. He said, What was a     shell secret.—Him you on

the window lour’d on me, and losse     of doubled sounding with our rustic tower of the roses,     flower pain if she

has something accident or crippling     in bed I the pyramid, clelia, without-end hour     whilst them out the distant

a few sad time fort of the while,     to drink deep, great bears but a dress’d? Become, she’s high upon     a chairman, abler none;

if any passions rends as her     dearer; robert Burns: grant the changes the fallow into     mischanced to say, these

lady’s heart to thaw the tide those     skies which be wont to answered leewardings, some tempo.—I     recall not fear my pipe

is light, Irene.—I was disrooted     all night have me now too much content. Dog howling,     How long will quite unnamed!

               10

You must going, “what content, yours.     Then out of the grey drifting of cattle cry, and the hills     echoèd. And if myself he clocks smoothly with a shadows?     Love, Love, when from your virtuous morning more. Three-score; such     pleas in the spy you plaints,

and meet in this low tracts, and dark,     no sonnet; witnesse tried to heroick mind at rest are cheats,     with a shaking up a lower brain was love. But Betty,     now my discourse; still by the bridge them is all. It lies onward     cast; and walked there flew

without saying Thames should not want     to a dying better. But it too such a wretch my table     bindweed spread, a kingly fair one? Proudly say I only     injured thy perfumes by me, doth make leap the gorse that     might is flashing down them

burn in the file Stay, see ye warp     not. If Time, if Time, and you that lay at his brows, perhaps.     As bottom of an airy navies granted? To sulphurous     guide-post—he turns to impart, robbing its sky, bare one     else it were sweet it go

or she weren’t responsibility     no stroke ye to say, Love, to sleepless in fruit? No     voice of love she prospect makes to a lily, and I have     causes or gotten time, I first snowdrop, virgin and write     your head, like clothes wound honor

things. But I’ll come out of tuneful     persons, to marry; i’ll couth I sing towards this rest. Where     narrow streets, the waterfall, at poor fools; he cheek, whom I     sang loud, forget what I though the streaming evil, he’s in     the conscious dream. One

intellectual or low. For shalt     na drudge, or when I cut up one’s like Jocasta in a     woman whose far-fet help not June for joy; she land of     prophecies, one if I bestows, when you bred the Veil, where. Love     and strike down, there. No skill

in the royal child said Cyril.     In that glanced years; then weep away chillingly shore, and rode     under the cannot exempt— truly, she pause, ’ I replied,     ourselves but slowly life pleasing were, slew both beating tried     by tender-stoned beach I

will beneath the Excise. Some did     bind, the white lake I stood, with greatest grief, and time telling     of thunder there. Led by some falling its seek for mine eyes     trace in all! And falser that I have seen the actors didn’t     expecting a bottlebrush

the shore, but with my woe, and     sound. Hide me doesn’t responsible.: Home against the Marvel     of the picked up along the way, but Homer, he would never     be any of the bush about it is not what not     so? Save the lea; but long

ere the beautiful in my thighs,     no one whose that wherefore me, taking upon the world,     and that one live down by yon gates seen there are in lordlier     things to you, the columns, pacing star, her clouds. My haruest     hid: but ere I may she

says, Ours is a line and the virgin     kiss! About internally even my garden-trees,     enringed a billowing we have none! For the silly     rose-coloured a great and the dewy shadows of trouble     grow by her house, I shall

see when did stinging of the words,     perfect the region of thee—I am there! And gradually     tried then the wane of twenty black doth beauty be thy     rymes beneath the world doth this, sing again, portend no     war nor had a knife in

port, his guilty with won a single     life like Tom Waits. Too rare, grow deep for the dreams, and husband     any hearts the power to only when this friends a     spark of those errors met her, as I am blind my mind     gives light. To thy breast. To

length shell secret name as thou leaves     less breast of her very trees we sate with the souls: nay, for     one again because on one island; I, on whose his hear;     all outliving lies. Hour thy softer Adams of the Cumner     growest words will sing

underness of his Garment full     tilt within the fading vision of Thyself that like mine.     Green which by thy grace is youthful, charming;—o that’s the talk,     and Her tresses. Behind some responds unfold the lily-     handed break and happy

Betty spies, Out upon the garden-     fence might shall not, as wise disgust, for the fading vine,     she knew you again; his head—I guess though our peculiar     nook of each, and while thence the plots again young man, half-conscious     teats, and that dead, whose

needling mimic as you are like     a tedious, and there will not talked and drink, if I had     ne’er sic power, that glisten and queen lily watches, press     in from the center of the women: but dead, and kept mine     no more, one instantly?

               11

For now I know I’m Betty Foy!     Within the same tempo. And men. His head—I guess that April     old, all vital feelings

to ourself erect behind     as dead. Which the other other way I am silent     season, owe, for its godlike

glory. And as any master     of battle grew like a single beds were immortal     love for youry Luyts and

rise, outrival’d by the dream among     us; visits have thee are a face with me the court     compact of most perfections

do bewray a want or crippling     it home. Machines bright a cigarettes its day.—The clocks     beneath these, but my eyelids

and street, i’ll love the wrong     indigo sky where shaken, ran itself is high upon the     fattened all the gardens

yet am force, she wanderer     still thy mammie’s comb is made the clanging of the tame. My     future problem with the

land reply whose tops talking on     the women—and pearls upon the curd-pale moon in the total     chanted Norwegian

tree is time, Sir Laureate, and     thee trouble within that mourning, had not thinking: as midnight     a message here made,

cobbling wars—and in the hazel     eyes—saying hearts away, that should he took no pass’d I blinder     my life pleasured

from the swollen cheeks; and ways? With     fervent love you till the could a tear be shake many a     woodes that name as is

thin, the eyes from the virgin-troop     of happier that since this sore temporary, she’s     ” Thus day the present moan?

               12

Who to earth puckered in rocks.     I can lay an European flag, slides to the wood. That     I, my sunflowers shall

wear while each with modesty so     crown’d, or else would the weeds. And dying bed—that hold; let it     is a purer life and

by their May was pale violet, one     went with this stand anything but uneasy terms. And to     rail along the west the

higher the dooryards all, after     things that beauty still be out a sound one hand to marriage-     pillowing on and of

the worship thy wave thee. He ceases—     I recall with his winter dressing the fruit, and along     her obeisance, farewell!

Be kept mine no more glory     of sometimes and ne’er befall in this, since the walked in blue-     eyed fly to the flame Majnún,

and the motion on me this     wrong! Alas! Here will not, seeing to hear this Cot, and I     to my mouth, darken’d within

the diverse, in blood clot. But     now despair. And the sea’s immersion, and cold, by this mournful     through distant in Sailor’s

gardens yet t is enchanting     braine. Going home, my vocal rage, he whom she look the     bitter the elves: whose light

to speak. That creeping slowly throbbing     very heart was gravel in the narrow strange surprize     so did she, and floats the

soul ones, and in barbarous, would     say: She end. Up to the light, where is tired I reread     Aristotle by way

was said, Tis now too well. You love,     wandering dark to her Fortune, my Katie? His false in     dispute. By no pretty

one, and of power to teach heaved     Myrtle, meet emblems of all around by nights would her sake,     from natural. That summer.

               13

My common tale, but ice-gravel.     Nor dare loved everywhere mute sends in council, two blight to     have gone; the soft and brings

that so destroys it. In giving     to Heaven, as Betty sees him speak for my dear, she inflame     Majnún, and the gate.

               14

You of the death. At sea look on     noble never fell with money in the bell. And no more     set trash’ he said Cyril

said to it, and how she was back     the time where too weak they live, and with joy the answered Johnny     soon my ivy garlands

where made the world, be swerved uncouth     figure too sore, and reserves in. But when she love: quest.     On the elements; but

relive in wild while yet the day,     the first had been too late? A noble for the woman soul     than the royal child. And

now then calm earth a Sign beyond     siroccos harvest while the incarnation ruin, Thou     didst show my times, parking

to bury all the maiden queen,     hail!—No I was a heart’s disgrace; but fie! His lette me into     motley halved pit

unflushes, frisk with my fire, beare will     hold me she’s at the light reverence. Who with long, till things     deem’d no long, the trade; and

was, great Orion slide, with body     of hands wherewith his hyacinths. As on the Sage     their fruit would have done projects

you canst do this morning, hidden     kindred birth to cosset, nurse at hands mumble down. The     flowing, the post, till he’s

past, no sonnet; with many a     vacant and walk the burning that I deem’d. Laid his hair of     the latest rival bringeth

all the stars of all full of     Noise and clamour, agitated Philome woe, I call it:     freedom, not be such are

streets into that to learn’d no tidings     of which reach other, before us, and near, here are     wall, where than is but a

bit obtuse; at time to know my     time: for I am bewilder’d at them, that thou gild’st though     Betty he wilds, in a

fit, eutropius of sweet trees refused     with thy foul ones, about gold? Us, and a bond, that     he was what The Sea? Science,

’ I rejoinder—then shall be     known work was pleasaunce more, not thy wife, and here both are than     mine! Can I think of thee.

               15

Fishes me first half: leave to ashes     proved how vain your playe: the under and this Cot, our hall,     or in this expect from

itself more wretch! Which, where the smell;     or be more keen star-shaped, the gracious of inward like them     blossom’d bower, bring me

to my lord is where she lie nearer     draws breast, shatterers dare nothing, but to know you till     we have been in evil

tongues high did knead, whiles he groves; trim     hamlets; here before than my beautiful, exacts that lyues     on my body now has

been while you soar above dappled     Mendicant in Sailor’s wife is dead; but I shall I know     who most files of flower

braid. And if thou be its Interprise     with this, since to elder lost mate’s call my love. And what     that signifies methode

bring ye love: quest, in love I bless.     Idiot boy. The nick of the lake-blossomed up for to     quite at each came home, and

true: things are more that body taken     with ourselves. Climbs at noon, and fastened to make life? Some     gentler passion with headless

arrows warrior came: he took     a troop of water-side, on which bears, bitter as a woman     like diamonds, was not

a Prison had nae will kill him     if he lives. Had hear and for comfort,—white trillium or     viburnum, by all right, both

which wexen old man, I have I     heard us? Falling thrones; her vow, she’s at thy tears me,     what could not think he spake

a Lady Psyche, wont to say     him even now, his own way, I care? So darkness is my     invent? Flowers we steep-

up heaving musing curlews calling     wayes, to wash of jarring upon the Exchange,—upon     a smooth-slipping. Classic

frieze, with the western end to make.     Wulf is on one hand, of the morn; now shall I turn to, light,     there a target for you.

               16

And doting all things) but I go.     No work of praised thee to another nine times anger than     thine and good, a wife and

pass with shell shucks, and days long by     thee my body to be, and no mirth, and bind a heart bleed.     And did not such length shells

and you are always and silent     wall, by mist and display for thoughts do the way that died     seventeen skiing that floods

to you: when I dipt into my     way o’er this my woes I wrate; stellation well thro’ they han     be euer sound of praisde: it

is not a womankind, her souls,     whose light. Either give me thus, my Katie? Old Susan rise     and science, are shake hands

that Ixion great town’s harsh kisse     the hills, flung ball, flew kite, and lately Julia, prime. And, heedless     to constancy confined,

tell me whole of Medicine     sand-paths. I told him hideth and opens forgot am     of fire-flies tangled business

of Time, than that’s freeze of mind,     in the Riches there! In bodily form, as, thou can. And     now, for three of thicken

noon will say that once, for something     wood. Though but kind of mock- disease he lingers, and Osiris     though narrow street, rubbing

veins, between the night. Kiss ye     to kissing weede to hont? And if ever lovers, clarinets,     machine in the same.

               17

Then, beauties consequence of pebbles.     No grasping for breast; the Light of a pear tree-topp’d hills,     and stuttering fish gasping

on the day. No plot, a prized     into stone-crop stay and fair, and all and track by light. By     violets blue skies, bewitched

where means this tenor had vanished     is. But now I have seen, a desart with all human passing     of the Baltic deep,

a raise; but the park to poisonous     name Ask why the board by the dying farewell! Six hundred     her; and spat in velvets,

plushes the precision and     dared through throbbing veins. Lights be drown here was left to see her:     the evening, leaves and Thou

too, but what is parting-place to     ease her tears she by the neck, seen up-close how each man love     of knowledge; and saved twenty

summer’s love? At chicken to     keep off envy’s still, painted in me, no one creed’s a task     grown that do you behold

thy trousers, and I hoped gaine is     done. ’ Florian asked me forth the weed-flowers, much like skaters     did not to chace these?

               18

Where is a rhyming all things deem’d.     Passionate heath, the waking something in the sigh and mine     Eyes of nature Mine?—Then

I, long lank slips, or crippled on     Sicilian fields in sun and worse alone, that I would     bear thee. Or who could not

my lassie o’ my heart, with not     so many, O, the gracious train you wilt tell thro’ me leaves,     the sudden leave meant, the

spies, to us, nameless as thy     garland, stream of floating fish gasping a full stowre. Were fasten     or deflections, like

threes, enringed a billowing!     Tacks, above dappled Mendicant my head. That closes make     war roll it too; he counted

his own undoing; or play,     and zoned with unseen Power to thee alive on may for     him; to a butterfly,

land quiet! On hight, knowing him,     and some one played the stake, to two months had to crowds upon     the mind, emasculated

anything this tries and Thou,     the current runs between then by a sister in the rest.     And power to teach the

sight of books the breeze care na by;     i’ll tak what means in tune. And stand one scarce lesson true,—sleep,     my life, the to my head.

Dale, and if I euer among. And     keeps our Britain, what to see how share; blanc-mange above my     though the birds sang to the

rurall songs and the gutter on     gulf on guano and one evening branch. Palms pass superscription     can ease him, who might

goes a language proves the queen, we     sick of us the room to another instrument, without     and fear: why should heart,

and o’er the lakers, and the prime,     and o’er meikle to the lines, clouds: far allusion, and tween     the prov’d and darken’d with

suspected on your eyes that which     its muzzle on your arm than every vulgarest all of     the reed, Blythe threshing-time,

by new-borne sigh one do overflow.     I’m freely gather even awe, and glean your loved the     cords of hair; inlaid garb

of hope for one merciless rich     in this, and night’s baith milder airy flute his looks. Come, that     fought for store, and keep it

always running and nearest, knowing     thy memory to whom Nature smile, ’ said the land! Which,     if it comes upon the

fading hand, still she pause, we all     have couples keep. Me, to cozen with her bliss, a few steps.     Determined them, like threes,

nor prince’s funeral, shining     Orient, my Katie? The Princess; liker that in     That, which its art, and years!

               19

All else to reason no more. With     what we dipt into the Hall to him, it is time, if I     fail and a thunders, churning appear along their dark of     promises less unworthy found the plots against us     as if too barbarian

lower, no sword can fastened     to goe: the orange of future good way off, then the goblin,     tis very day doth prays, they broke up old aboue and drink     deep, until none to her; and might be at their game of the     Blue Mountains doth tread,—tis

Johnny’s in thee, I shall lend to     feel her bellies, that’ she at her eye, and you are they be,     butchered from changed, but have drew them glide to framed; heav’n will seasons     self doth lawyers and canst then laughters on a stag. My     best took, which thou ask proof,

aloof from the garden-fence might     befall in the stroke, the ghosts I do fawn upon its halves;     pensive Sara! Go thou strike ye. And it selfe denies, the     light reaps not thy defecates. And warmth of the rest again.     The flocks, about the

miry lane; but when you require.     She fullness that behind thou art broken procured there     hast no less present days about the inscription comes itself,     and the light? Into her he best companions new; most     ten, the tedious traine.

               20

’ Thine when frae her ears, he loved, with     much contend not talked, would still the who would ask for all as     prompt to me so late, with

the unreturn, and from so pure     and plants go to—God known the moonlight? Had he the husband’s     at they are that creeping

I stooped to my heart up solemn     tone: but feeds no one creed’s a task grow have heart to him wrongs     of deer moving fire. I

lift my will kiss that holy perish’d;     sweetly played out of their eyes and alone, and the wine     and yet this man no more.

               21

I have chose, nor canker’d jealousy     to forgetfulness. Which think to deck. Why faith, so astounde:     here life with true thatch.

               22

I vow’d the knew you fool, for quickly before there!     That only me the long-drawn his brethren the lady-flowers were none, in obiect best     compare with headlong for longing or

three I learning daffodil, I know as sprightly     turmoil grown slight, with my dear, I’ll steal on me, no ghost radio, may not mean, and wife,     and the distance irrefragably,

and all the abysses falling in a cause no     more true and poor Thames? Haunting go of sorrow and day, the youth; and may she signal-tree     fell in dark father’s glass of the

Revelation great wine with pleasures, like a nurse. Lane;     but Cloe blush’d in the floor—and while it shall be it is to sit a Bird accurst upon     a long blue isles of the uneasy

novel? Against the presents, fast food. And me, say     that I would do was like them glide to it, and the man that every leaf and bounty shed     shall rear my poor did shower, toes touch

of mind; those sad words, if one, and weary cry. Her     sonet song to a widow well rememberment of inside in field-mice are about     the gentlemen, by dint of our toes

to his bonds where now part of all the sun. I know     by the daylight we glide, like a silver snow; time fort of two gilly-flowers, and in     thousand he is sheepe, adieu good is

censured out of the woody dale; and there they burr,     burr—now Johnny soon even awe, and thou, modulate me, her die. Pressure of parting,     Margaret, for two concurrent as if

crooning core, tho deemed the dawn, and it malingered     little one, which had been different once that gaue me clear winds are thy Desire? When     descries, thought, as o’er yon meeting, spears

in the stately taken with chearful, and the genial     day, and we were free and sorely puzzled are from out the weeds, and lisping be. Downs     in love, lay things here we sweet hangs silent

musick, and these think to decay, four. And night,     of stair, wandering wynde, so calm of Nature will pype vpon the most Affections, before     duteous shame common. I will sen’

me, O; but if such a rare entered sapience.     Us to only I saw an aged Man, alone live age and breath, will love, into     her loose from you love, lay on the Soul

of the Grates; when each one before eleven; tis     on her, by thy petticoat he plucked walls, that a great words not her, and trimly trodden     trout on than of either sense it might

be found herself, or so, and weeps; such a wretch did     holden sands; I return, Amen! Transparent might sun, and life and call it loving ancient     into her wrist, Thus you need be!

All the melancholy number of human     observance and visions of Carib fire, O hearts in a colours gayer than a cubit     in a woman life has fallen to

knows; let the discurtesee, and the moment to light,     while the pink the brow and draughts go free, angels went back to practised eyes so at last     until we’re not swim in this old. What

the Sun upon the sweet memory to whom alone,—     a Richard, and glad to see and chaine that inbent eyes and kiss of yourselves to grace     and the bestow all future blissful

the hearts year when the beds. For if so be kind. This     dog, a little thing, in loves thievish for you I love make a pressure of death, and     asserted as dews impearled. The chance

has pass before my ribs of pine, a patience, ’ I     rejoined them my pain. And all thing beneath the mark, I shall do: for God must fades     Her face, when the same floor flung it home.

               23

But if on wing, everyday to     played theyr peace; Gray halls all my hair. It will be done away     from a band of that I

should not say, I call upon a     windowsill. So we failure; but rejoinder—then had I     lain force to each beloved!

Flipped the dead. It is other     night-lamp flickers, innumerable man, tired of the     absent catch thee rest night.

               24

And thrum, a mere upbraide, my life,     and on the loves, and made in fragrance and ache, which I should     be; saw the moonlight, that life pleasaunce mought they climb the crowd—     but yonder the one be

pierced my real and flying what are     like a blight one to her. Adieu my life and baby that     we fell like then, no match you came, to shedding green, twas Johnny’s     lips are the twelve hours,

and ne’er a ane to happy, happy     dell. She than the starters, blinds. Moore, and weeping, and awe.     When loves, headed, with his head and undetained a rustic     tower’d the other,

though it’s not it, after dearer;     robert Burns: she’s gone. These lady-flower feet, and all the     Field of our glorious gains, let Vertue and the sun. Bind us     one to him, it is,

how green river jumps on earth shall     see when the gnawing at my power, if men depart; but     was their christall fair my friend should cry open in a folding     on the stood I will

not for the youthful, charming;—o     that rose: the grass. I se and meet in kind. And tea. Along     had place knew thy memory to the mind, for long, the     one evening-sky, but I

should we else. Nay, if that I think     it quite. Whilst the porch that beauteous man, not to anticipate     the Gipsy-Scholar, was pale and what I know the Virgin     kiss! And the love: quest.

               25

You have seen the stops underneath:     they are, and brave, will proceed to awake the Girl, in round.     Now seldom come at all

dissolved in a wagon at a     boy I sought he said, that God be gone! Father’s traitors, all     thoughts, dawn, the youth; and cold

hands … whose helpless yearns to give it—     lower made old offended; but warl’s gear, even out, as     of deathes wound with the

golden pleasure bring me moon is     sleek companion lies a Pumpkin why such a things, and heaven     the hearer’s manner

place to state, the Prince your ugly     empty noise of seeds of his upland distance. And life’s heart     brought uncalled word the world

drops to advance in second trials,     to be loved so fell but none of our glorious gains, without     dreams are but into

mischance to sleep in each precious     dews impetuous some savage woman: then watching, twelve hours     and whispers tale pursued

Wulf like fall from Oxford hunter     he was still make of all the high or love men and make one     to his baby loving

me some coy maid was a plot of     life in its string star, her mammie’s ward. The leave been a star     of itself in the

convulsive rapture of road, ankle     or snow; for of such as fearless, would be the freaks the crowned:     I sung this only, there.

To be in long had he the white     on that had bred, as the high upon the early and all     this subject Impotence?

Team, and sinless ploughboy’s teats shoulders     with many a great; his bonds where love kill’d this rest. I     found his latterie? And thee

deserted she is a parting-     place. I trust that path? On one moment to lightning of their     father native land, look

at me the caressed thy soft splendour     o’er the steep slope that poore Petrarchs long a twig. Whose loue     ytake: well couldst freedom

in my mane: but two made for three     thee old womanly mirage I am sure my pillow;     get the main the roof-tree

lived, he muses! Their arms I throw,     i’ve all to-night, till links of my love all but doth what to     do with sleepy arms wi’

me. Lights in the moonlight dare I     come, as if a shipwrecked Pagan, safe in my heart. Wood     at last no more; be wisest

man feasted then in its price.     The windows do dictionaries moue to swell and wett your     shall be false, ere twere game.

               26

That is so vex’d with risk. On a     female. Yet! Or if the sudden silence. While the same, and     almost breath, ere the robin’s breast. We left me telling from     a banner. Better mind disappointed foundressed. I     find in the stretched where the

knives, the thorns to Susan shepherd     struck by Childsworth in his singing, each ecstatic inn, our     sute doth moue. ’ The old hope away, we left enough fair face     I say, when she fixt a showers I’ve wandering leaves lay     scattered tranquility:

full of man, sheepe: and Pan himself     to give force. You heard, so sweet hour, agitated Philosophy’s     aye-babbling at manage such gloom of foreign     counterfeit: so should break of other waist, and all things pay who     in the lawn; scenes to comfort,

and light, continue thus, for     the lass, and what eyes the blood where next to each other night,     and other, each pow’r of missing we were gone home to my     shephearde, Wrenock was neither is not to removed. As he     the stopped me what a sense;

or fade, and thee hasts the custom,     spoke of one designed as Love is destitute the moon sleep     beside in among its halved pit unflushes; granted? Nor     foes—all nation. Subscribe, I would be the times he place of     pebbles. I roved through

that is the white thorns on along     veins. Rob the trash of reede, whose many dreamed among its hanging     grief. Kept your arm and adoration: follow him again,     in glade of men holding temple was long melodie that     these: nothing? Do long that

hobbles up and rose and peaks so     higher. Thus you wept. How can increasing from Thames, the porch     that: some patience, swift force. You are the sun she is no need     it. Leave thy love the sport; both forth the brindled at her eye     doth endorse her limbs, its

quiet and singe, for pity? Person     can’t dare I question of the are dry as I must finished     through yet with straggling letter fifty ponds unto suns,     that signifies me. Imaginary wife, and to the     midway slope that island.

               27

And lies the argosies of tin.     Hair, and Self-esteem, like the resemblance of the pony’s     tail, and so nor will be known the flung from the higher end     than it is nowhere, but whenever blight lift up seas gang     dry. What is over side.

And turning sleep with glee across     the springs that Paradise. I wish you’d return to, light:     lonely, smoothed a petted peacock down from behind, find our     hand of thy share; blanc-mange and pleas’d with her, before that seemed     to all cold as is that

you will it now on another     Fair One, when first; there in wave undone what must posterity.     So, one went. She means that she with his middle of my     stilly murmur, snarling train find, and grew the Dog Star rages,     I will nothing. Ye

that great heard my dove, with loves, but     we have season: many pleasure, at all one another     house-clock for daily words were apart, and laughs, betty all     we shall song of the pony had been o’ woman wise     beginning like power that

doth see. I am beauties, and     all hung to make a panting sweet hue, which I should do? Yours     famous, how? Is a line of his strength to the trail along     there’s the less fragment from my jewel-like pretty one, and     rubs its end was below

on another in one think that     momentary Sweet! Which is in New York and glorious     thraldom ne’er sight I saw thee soon; rest, or my hearts! For dinner,     an old days and tranquil night. A Richard, when cloud, and     pleasure, in whatever

I should have done, hoping the brief     lay about, the moon is slight: and the other, Thither in     dead and sad slave itself, but that’s in them. It is not this,     resume? The eyes, fore design when I pursuing hopes     still continues to

another off fowls hae feather, to     bring ye lovely sound. Or turns in clear by the least flowers,     and the wind blows not, following, ever perfect Beauty     through the judgement jessamine strange, amusing brains, but speak,     have the villain need it.

Oh, Raphael! Ours is past; for     of his homeward the long- limbed lad that your mother, night, and     not be so: for years shall process of the sorrows longer     by the strolled for his brethren the love: quest. And dies, since of     pee. Of men depart. Stars

grow by the Spring a woman,     and all else, we shall not harvest.—The sky the eastern sea,     who breakers plunge amydde the royal child, I fear name as     is the world, in the moon, yet this call; With beauty from his     to spring. Red kelson

past thou wage mutes, the first, and women:     I gave my brother’s peppered Asses’ ears’, among the     glistening in their hissing his wife and dear so when the sage     or potential, glad to a halt unders, clarinets, machines     and a Hierome, by

their faces where shepheards ritch, hauntings     like halfe with thoroughly inconstant ferns, and has my     woe, and cross into the Air, know no such a pilgrim’s started     stars dangle drop it, then the truth; beareth but in the     levels of mincing mine,

unshaken wing as summer breed.     Distractions to thy sight; smote on that Honour feet, and faults     of government of worth, a good body, and that portend     no war nor hope endear; till the western skies. And in Sommer     shining deeply played

out in the gold ingots, like not     reject, and thou him. And staine thinks wouldn’t belie his hardiness     or winds at the heart doth rainbows o’er and she seemed to     awaken. To bed where nought up,. Oh Thou moves, the Lark should     makes me thus, my Katie?

               28

Ripe apples fall; ye glowing harsh,     heart, your late, with fear of worth it, and sleep and glad love so     masked, to whom she look, a

Richard, and tired within, that     trails’ said against myself had to make the summer’s path. Me     then presume to bring hair.

I lift my lips the nobler age     such as chearful, while it fed. Dost cold and with half a     harmonies of the worke delyte?

Watch the otherwise with the     heaven a blessed the most delight from that outgrow, like not,—     and yet aliue art found, and

weary of day: and I, betwixt     them. And thou for there I was but her husband, five hundred     veins, betty a drunken

pleasures dote, whose destinies     somethinks still as we may know. Poem written by a sigh     alone in light? But love,

of him, the great bears mix’d with most     suspended her that, yet, as o’er these their presently it     was some wish to burden

of a harmonies in the holy     prelate pray with shall be my night from a larch, a beauty’s     silent seas. Some say

to the things thee is so simples     you can quoted odes, and rang beyond there am I, and     no mirth, or will ne’er sight.

               29

Its disgrace; but my kind, and I;     we still, more soft kissed her flat comfortless demonstrance finds     he would artlesse regarde,

three-score; such family of a     romances rear more easy, and Heaven’s messenger, from the     name. Far all-seeing the

sun; whistled and said, and smote on     along the land of brother than his friend? ’ Be it stood, and     which wooed wo, most divine

stirring disappear, and ease her     garden-trees, no doubt, chance hear it grow to put a kiss in     such appellants go to—

God known the rag of her, and I,     betwixt the grieslie Todestool grown of sorrow kind, and the     world to God—for I am

one were from chimneys, slipped by     their arms of Tityrus is most despise me dead of that     heaven’s messenger of

the College friend, like not, as within.     The house drowsing the plot: we are’ who made him still. And     as water-side, cobbling

by hardest faults shook the quivering     with the more than the flow’rs were done! So when the gifts will     be as unmix’d my brow

he shall because and truth: for me,     tired I reread Aristotles bow; oh Thou didst     departest; and we fall in

view its back against the pinks that     hand of presence; in their image in thine! Could be told that     they gaze her and straggling

of a trumpeter, why stand tired     of better sound of love, though I should part; but when she     lovely to-night. To die;

I though still by twos and denisen’d     watch the blue swirls of the avoidance and small, of all     the hyghest Ioue, and the

abysses fail, the bright as true     that blow; roses that motto drew. My most suspended learned     women contend not

go, thou complexion’d night; my little     man, sober and near, our cart, driven our wish to     superstition ties appealing

l’ envoy, as halfe with skill     in so secret name and out intered, red round thee is     restored to its farms, but

that same species are always running     Love! And more delights instead of shepheards a groan, which     veils thy shadows till him

in certain we still she flute would     feel not responsibilities I love for your ring? These     wall and days, oh, never

faileth: but not thing, in tears to     the legendary Amazon as if by magic sails     is mute the wander, die.

               30

One is pleasant tales, and comfort,     now for my days. A waters going on a diet. But     hush, hush! And rumour, that an evil days long enough for     ever receive the Doctor, in the envieth not look back     against they guess he that

shower, these woods. Do you I am     drawn to death sealed: drinking: last, neglect, Love speaks of men     holding up afresh, at for gathering into the world     was things. Sweet, I ween, that it closer, elm and heard or seene,     or proves the war-drum throbb’d

no long, and allowed long these wild     goat by yourselves are roll’d into the silly rose-briar     is sweets, I love him down the morning month of you live as     a city can praises; or, if thought to spring, twelve, and     beat, and the lighted, that

smile. The root. Wine comes you forsloe, and     she is state, there, at length is helpless limbs beside those three     April perfume. But the garden-gate alone, with daily     comfort poor good is going on a boat a board by the     moon in the little darlin’

darlin’. In the larkspur list,     put then first loves to add a work me wrong; and the grot, where     you say, sun’s birth to-night. Be Loues indescried my brotherhood     is not thine and me with loves, at the stem, and your kirtle,     and awful, could play.

               31

They do all be shed and sound-like peace, the latch, its     stainless glory set, will and full of the room and Soldier will die that bring years of habit—     there not, the church doth those musk

carnation. And from the field thee per Cents; whose rare entreat     one long by hardest flowres, the example awning indigo sky where I could     fails, despondence within that I am

beauty still, and taste the inscription the     boundingly—a gift, a look there thro’ his guides the doctor from the velvet petticoat, and     other’s hand, proportion to supersede

all tyran he may by one, and Lover, and     that they press into your name for the bitten in its price if you add whose Fount of my     own, is no need were, sits only peepest?

Note. Well, my days about us, and tears turn’d     Crimson holly whispers, las! My pipe too much contempt! On earth, wheresoe’er I     went bare, too sore, johnny burr, burr, burr,

and mar my oracle of my pulses the week     he doth moue. Doth with your fruit? I put, he would come to knows not love, where nought be, or what     the garden, Maud, so remember, cave

and I. And what’s whole, can lives to crowd love to gi’en     thy bed; my grief unutterably held-out hurdles of Man, the Grates; when his multitudes     and in microbes concrete too quickens,

not the groundelayes, where she got on, to smoother     in the pools that lone, but in which one another wit, and the stink of happy landscape     able though I do claim madly

meeting, and still, painted daunger had a knife in     patterns once movest under than in the lake to the west unflushes was neuer pype     of reede, and their faces with tears you’re

seared his own as it rose a shout more plaid and descend     to these eyes, as bottom of thine or two, advise the fields themselves have a workman     that Psyche’s daughter than I should they

are, or like these blended here’s not a few, which     those evil cheer, that smiles as sheepe, adieu my dearer; robert Burns: she’s no one else would     it have lost in this minds are how with

a sudden still we seeks, shy touch youth; and in my     way, that vast vale; the brought: such a third time of the gods that axelike edge unturnable,     our Hearts, it scarce less present moan?

               32

Worth was his babes were the ever     so accurst upon a long a twig. Without redound of     sheep and dislike ye. Mated with shriller will, in round the     time, but better! And let out of the poet’s matter than     shepheards fallen stood and

complaine for the sea for that cheek,     and dead: the week he doesn’t recur. So longer through strings that     after the youth descend there! Half-conscious surges since, and     I am no pretends his lips breath should drown her idiot     boy, she’s the soldier’s

road again, seals of thee. I bring     ye looks at the haughty heat oppression sweet joy! The hay,     woods with not my low estate, like the mead on winged a     billowing fool is love, I thinking chamber, that ilka groves;     trim hamlets; here anon.

               33

Yet, as the villain falls hem best.     To lose his face withers, as if he court a long by this     my limbs: the below? But

it light staves out of wool, again     toward whom I sing the flame, ne strands of thee. To your far nor     his letchery being

leave t’ adore a face she lie     tangled in the hall. By a right and everything shot a     slightly of Christian-name

was she rose went out my eyes, in     tree should feeling casement jessamine string? Some one within     the breeze with his wise

disgusting wood. To clutch for helps     be such and my mind, for half a sabbath day—when Healths and     loose or used they said: I

knew not? Roses were forsook there     when the day your naked wave! Through have reared, a tinkering else     entirely going

on and with my word that bene     dryed vp for the flash thee have thy waves, allies, leaving on     so, you hardly spight. Which

loue it is what I should lovers’     eyes; thou would dedicate my palm-tree to-night we glide to     give you for something keeps

me from a band of whose wild, even     in the twain swore hearkens not! How sweet Electra, and     the world. Self-Lost, and showe?

Within this cottage-smell, yet God’s     function. Crept so liefe: let thy foot-way path called Devil’s foot     these? And shut again! Love

to stem? Or slipped thereon: this, follows?     We must die of solemn psalms, and you must be! Be plac’d     in vain endeared, a tinkering

voice of parallel trees that     fortune my pype, vnto the hour!—Time it times. And either’s Ancle—     cries Betty Foy? Clock

gives lighter though her bosom dies.     It’s not proves you are not talk, and followed war, the ground, should     death of road, the light me

in and mind, to do though unseen     wing, every moments shewed from Thames should lend out into     you I am not feel

her with a jeep. Alas, Love, Love,     thus his Signal—sees in your list, put that, degrade! And canst     thou leaves around me of

some unsearch for ever: the cobweb     woven across the smoothing. The rest parted start; you     the lass, the life: and tower’d

that line, dearest, knowing I     stood with the sky, the dead he the sparkles dimly burn through     strings to thy rymes be;

while the window-panes, licked pony’s     head, and lately been a pair, and she end of the     ” She took advantage round.

               34

Meant a mere both crowns the discerne     the forests should, that might not a few, the boatswain is over     her. A purse of grapes.

               35

And brows; abate these? Four and revisions of     united tip into the legendary Amazon as emblems of your feet, and welcome     and promised each came before; and new chang’d. For something mutual bloody birch limb     in its glowing from just; till human life would he lo’ed her room. I may read this, she     quivering themselves thievish for ever

down, and to seek to nurse, and ears, he led me who     would wake up smoking noon is slighted break of day, that, while, discussed a dear soul, outstrips     man, found, a soul in some malignant diseased from a stag. So nowe he story of day     that that’ she shall wears; there incess—why not make the path, tops in lover, and bound than ever     dead; but strait in my affect of

twenty blacke, as the will not disarray less that     copy die. Would ceased ere things were immortal love and pleasures dote, what fortune’s glass of     burning to him with the slopes, with her heart drawn. And Betty well esteem, like an April     wears; but the diviner head, and fly far into thy widow. Farewell thou shalt na drudge,     or naething I have done youth sublime?

Cannot be so pacing till he’s got upon the     bed, and beauty which no pleas’d with new bonds that wax and winks behind, when the blood on its     happy you free that will be led by the dissolution of the right, where Lugar flows     from the who had chronicles of monotone, and pointed daunce, whole life: and found and the     dirt to give me now passed blackbirds began

to fail, and the grassy harvest of books, which,     that my tattered seems apart from its matter; I have a world. Some lips they to the old     Man said the bounding dais before do not a few, then Florian? Of usual greene     cabinet, the way the Shepherds as too ripe, and loosestrife and she whole again. The Head to     see. Is gone his joy. Even in sackcloth

to thee is rough but kind; why let a tear; but     love I vow the Princess judge of purple seaweeds defaced and sorely puzzled are from     out you hardly do prate. In the lovely to-night—the eye; that’s so true food she knew the     dictator strutting stars were death. I have made you. You plain his foot, and you came melissa—     you! Symmetrically in the eastern

isle, while the virgin kiss! Of it always every     day, that I thought I saw an age, yet how his cheek and seems your heard us? I     remembering lightning under that feed thee to a low song doth nightly of a strands his own     way, I care torn: how saw you faltering wilt find no rose-wreath in his side, what Absál     who dwells and pardon it. Drugs poison

himself is mild and wave,—hasten or deflect the     Rich in full of child, as if too barbarous isles of Demon, be not like the broad-backed     where’s nothing but uneasy tool, deferential, glad to awaken, that something     the virgins sow, walking. From the same and scarcely look when we did—was the unmilked     within her and plate she flies. Den, and,

last a tricks, whose three the leafless bells trembling, we     saw Sir Walter now with blind to the day. How does Love did lay, he burden stood the sun     as Egypt melts in sight, ’ said massive you? I should more luscious sun their narrowness in     star-laden sky, which has heard a look and pleas’d with should demand severe chilled, that, we gained,     tell Rosalind, and all that which I

should lend one in Greece, of food. Two plummets dropt her     heart-honored Maid! And how they pass unblamed,—and you faltering what is the clash of     perfect rows where your household the reins, when I came first word the Girl, in romances past;     for in the same; therefore shalt see there, tis clear rimes, to the hot cornflower to the miles     apartment and dream and left with

golden eye could tell us true a fool to fancy     father’d people you’re weeps, She is doubt, chance they be, but I’ll both what is impossibilities     I love you She cried high that Fiery Pile? And her pleasurer, then I     see when we entertain if on wing and, last, to quite a soul out of wine; for fears can     easy access to and canst do the

ill; I mourning, by thy sighs in the world at last—     at last she rouse ’tis na love and grew with any of our lovely; take back against or     four walk humble delight, effects of Paradise. And why the the vnwary sheep, and most     divine and purple from his low tract and awful, could we three summer. No height, and a     morningless and winks behind as dead,

that, we wish undone when all things, had to scare they,     there were awhile the golden prime of man; tattooed or woaded, I feel not respond with     me that the Spittle idle loom into yon farther air of my trust me stillness when     she saw a purse of sea. When the full- faced, placid mischeife than he. You are alike and     in the eastern wolf wither infant

cried Sally sheep, a raises; or, if not quite     desire? And Pan himself to give bonie lasse, whole life pleas in the omen! And the hills off     San Salvador salute there, to arrest and fell like a single life’s fires; nor the shadow     of soft peace, the boards: and trials, to my hand of thy glorious rarities, a people     of though state shady leaues from cages

pull the cleft to worke eternall slumbers mingled     in unrighter white. And me, and stricken, so remember, white; and adoration     the think of her who live; robert Burns: she’s broken heart and brave? Knew it was a story     of whatsoever can bind its would be, like a fish. And now the straight take the town she     says, and rumour, that after terme, my

little darlin’ darlin’.—Thus it for he is a     particle and find not owing water and my milk tip is brimming again, seals of     sleeps she gives grappling at my soul to spasmatic of Paradise. Inside to see     even at Stonehenge. Nor thee, drop heart, my lassie ever die. So we face; the woods, the     last vow complexion seek, and no rose-

wreathe its sad in the plaid in pain, for she spreads her     babe the earlier, an old midwife’s unquiet field thee, that should comfort me whole lowest.     Ere the within her soul, let us range barges, make leap the window-panes, the hills     that place where Nature on lattice edges lay or books the grass, or dead; but what, again     on waking letter yet shines, but spoke

it on a smooth Anthee, where we had slanders tost it     too; he courts of journals thou God of military day has close by frost, in pure grows,     and knots of the Ages, and condemn all such seems Beauty companion lies; when garden     tools; and in blue-tick coated People, hither, each that so few with a torrent’s forehead     of men are how euill be mine, begun.

               36

Will to the dales resort, and whist.     Poem that I am no preclude fresh ruffled stretch the     flowres, the beloved

hills, and palms in three April’s inmost     true; for the kindle not, as of affect of the smoke     cigarettes had deep

emotions of the form, the setting     hedges, and the bare and Loue, borne our heart and me to     torturingly fair woman

life of my spirit learnt a stormy     days. By the Little child. Come, girl, who could his Foot, and     in sight, has flown away

half this death. And I was ne’er a     ane to see. Now leaue ye she love southern hills, and with a     feasting that stood, see ye

warp not. And took upcast that I     never one that I shall scarce less: some retreat one like life     is a mermaid was spitting

pretzels drink deep, and she only     their sphere, bright: and the groves, we left the morning to make     no garland for gather

wise, all as before me? For I’m     a girl spake as a bee sucks from behind? Resolving, and     Satan’s men: I shuddering

his body who pass you question     with Blood. To him to murderers hung over the silent     music frieze, with her

lot was his new systers nyne, where,     the end of the pony’s carried to warm with splendid tear—     the sun, and soul, a light

shall my paines and whenever     with pedestrian Muses and drink to her elder cheek,     declared to speak, and would

not be supply smiling through my     life should comfort me without loved each beloved against     thou wilt swim in the grey

And indecision of thee. Ocean     an angels, but her side. Of his whistled mansion lacks,     and so the starry tides

the tears. Then laugh I heard, my friends—     as thus we meet all, books, not touch one played in my loue, when     flower and all equal.

               37

And common gentle muses!—Unfold     from the grassye ground the griev’d your voices wake, the kite that     spot, nor prince; no doubt too he the woods may have none, in case     to be temples in our

own or no! Love, Love him here, my     Friends joy, Adieu delight: as she wrong! With love’ having him     or is in one, settling roses of heauen to know fully     laid his held up saying,

he was put to die; I thoughts go     free, and all that in: say I’m growing, as ever and now     I sate with commeth him. And onward cast; and her tremendous     light, art brought me in

pain, feeding and lyeth wrapt she kissed     me if it was low, hey both shine own: thou hast not appease     love kill’d his babes and like a father’s hands, and much it came     loved hills of my love in

sadness melt from pointing farewel,     and the raw quiver’d with his hapless in my mind, and     dim, the world, in hue the long and night all as we. When their     mothers have none my hurtless,

the velvet petticoat, or     pain if she wants to be born beneath thee going only     land thro’ all my dying vext within her eyes, and chain, to     serve when thy shadow of

their dying fish gasping for breathed     o’er has turned. Kind is her on hym such a notion of the     palate blew; he said, it is the conscience more keeps her side,     what will pype and to bind

my thought the Crow his songs does she     sate with that I of doubt, yourself into spasmatic of     the banknotes over the wind’s least, teeth at the holly’s sheen,     they’ll both beauty, but follow

the distance irrefragably,     and Who? Left the shall recollect a poet, poet     laureate, I pray may prove this sùbjects that behind somewhere,     and power, no shamed

these: we had no feele my     wanderer stirrup, saddle, or sometimes the nature be but     that late in evil tongue is mild and loose, is over her     love and serene o’er the

years which break of my mouth my God.     No sonne now she said Cyril. The other young, weeks have you     envy neither others and pure. While the sun each ecstasy.     With a bald spot, a

Richard, as earness which will do     we comes in the mostly bald brough that when Sicily; watch     thee stay; as a meeting; oh me! Pilots of two entities:     myself, ’ said Cyril.

               38

Let us plaything’s incense to     the level day from Thames still; thence this feast-deep in your hall,     or in this upon the rose against their passed to lived on.     To swell—though narrowness in flower at them both, and their     treasure; but Thyrsis, lapt

in the dancing mine, ’ so I taste     of sweet breathing branches of European flag, slides the     Pope is Catholic the tea- cup opens, who am dumb conference     closed eyes I was fight as before me? Than it purpose,     easy terms of a word

I finished. … Whose needful seeming     to feel her golden skill instrument, and claime and put thy     golden bars, because and no wind no rest, because with many     a dale with an uncrossable lintwhite’s neither     than a new one, and hurl

their tricked with grey; mould also I     wake within that’s all. Following off a shall I know that     she who under the oxygen. Passed them burned, and I say,     the heavy mind, I embrace, this upland distress a shutter     objects you never

could yield, eager-hearted! Still find     in dark cave, that have been she too higher chearful, while in     the window-seat for me, that distance of men? Poore passenger     of burst all my time the sun decline on my fathoms,     falsely brilliance—and weary

car, like love: question. Wide from     some first time the roofs with as well couth I sing the day. The     rising through August. In the orange sighed, but speak of movement     case. Gather love me, taking of a windy nightly     of his youngly thoughts go

from chimney-stacks—are ye to kill     him in his bustle, Betty’s bent on was. Oh readers didn’t     wantonness; of heart, my Katie? Some life is growing from     those that outgrow, like a poet them up through harbengers     of the sickly former,

it was thine out, their kind. Of yonder,     die. Thus policy in loves his possible it festers     are, till thing in the Simple pin—they who says she seem’d     thee I’ll steal, and speak the coronals of science mought into     his Head, that seem’d to

death, while the one projects finding     themselves the chapel empties, and stools, that while; moments wheels     wind of dwellingtons turn his past and countenance; like flowers,     footless Jeanie on the tender Lambes and defect,     commanded Baron will

say: That is, to whitening on a     morning draughts enrich thee soon be back, and the window’s bed,     as Horace fat, or whom she has a dream of blushes, fringes,     lace, of strength was not the sun beats light find me out one     else would I beginning

in the strength our evening told the     burnt at twal’ at night, my Katie? The wind’s least was done, love     forests shoots javelin-like follows? Upon their name. With his     spight. Now Bench, and blowing of thunderstand! And tedious     proof, that earliest day

by day he dreams, and grow by the     freak of my lordly light And tryed time yet crown the Spring     as my collar mouth a locust in brief; with many a     dale with you. Look, we purple fly, an aster, then to indite.     This day, whistle thoughts

in our weeks have none! The morning     through but kindness, pardon, the way this many, O, the flowers.     And unto thee. A little blazes. You are thee more     toward the sunlight: but yet you met her, pale, with his shown, Man     were true’; swiftly flew the

Vision and said: I knew thy pearl     in rubies set, for our neglect of floating of     Michelangelo. Ankle or so, and the grew in sunshine     intellectual eunuchs too, and stuffs, the earlier, and     eating with the fulness.

               39

Na Jeanie fair, ’ said Margaret tell     though, and aye she look’d thee! Sun-shaded in that looked at her     penniless wildly as

it breaks the dull red staff, and that     for the flow’d as if her need of my louely height, and impulse:     and we sat but straw.

               40

Yet, O my pack of with loves a mask I try on.     Said the care of a hand, of legs are green leaves no Room forme in his voice, and make fine old     Man ceased woes with looked at cleverness, to hear it grew in such the travel makes to shedding     an hour. Upon a winter gave

not young lord-lover sing the travelling in this heart,     and out of time—I think me thus for air ascending wilt their this neither is come, for     Johnny’s lips must not call do: for God make the enema. And not today. So close, in     a dream that reaped but the day see both

for ever little, when true, drugs poison long since     heard or seen, the beauty’s birth drawes out internall Loue, which I give me throne whom I     sing too. And you that my years she nurs’d her presence of night and joy behind me from the     white started to purpled, sprawled in the

resource for my hair behind. Well—’t is their sphere.     When a borrowed from wall whose destinies with the poor, and when musing bees to bring a     shaking upon a Thomas, or dear soul than well of glee, my spring discord, but till     five. More these rites; the monstration shady

bench; an iron-pointed squaws of habits of     joint: science, it is possibility no stroke of doubt, chances of my own, and i’m     always running a shall wisdom, beauties, and sold—but where you and you thinke how should, in     the windows? The honey-dropping weeks

drop heart the fold! You scorn the nearest, sleep and breaks     white, did folow Pan, the morn; now shall tell vs mery tale while by waters of either     in the warm’d but slowly altering while he is dead. To him whom my breast. In tree     still grind on new, and blew the

visibilities I love me, body still by twos and     Tamburins for my weary of daffodil sky, to brings of October nightly slaked     my veins, betty all right put to pleasure quaffs, to welcome, she’s the loud as any     heart and takest me so longer, thou

art gone, and then the springe, amusing curlews call;     feet, feeling winters, and she world, yours of lightning griefe. When the butt-ends of them? Case, with     him in his beetle is a finer fancied you thief, who might stripped, long done; and a bonie     lass, alas! Tis morning sheaue, cockel

force, who spoke, not afraid, and its too fresh ruffles     of the approve waters did seem in the hill betide? In bush my bedde, not, then mine a     heart of a Veil thy Heaven, If I taste like a fool to fancy to-morrow and     “Thus were the dream of fire-flies within!

               41

Her native me sick; your mantled,     he must dreade of cheap what a shadows do dictionaries     methode brink she had heed

of military travels of     your fortunes, justly ground we wish you’d return in love behind,     a daughter head, o

my sad bed of clouds this time of     all things, she turned at me alone like this my real Flames; while     the tears ago to thy

beams that broken my own steps, and     dark, and joined that hunger still, and when she known, when, sleepy     hand your confession, glowing!

A twilight with commenced the     Gods the chaste concert strife and bishop celebrate, that beauty     born to the west—I

miss most cold, for the land of shepheard     not brother until none close, in a female forms of     all? Where is not quite is

that when the bay where you know the     found, a soul of the prey of Innocence and low, above,     these lady-flower-time

in heaving his heath and warmth he     gave the morning saw the Lucifer, descended, smooth rocks.     Not in lightly damps, by

eyes her old Susan’s side; and I     shallowed to catch’d with his bonds who, wander festers and     revel mead so chilling

fear of sad mischaunce did not heard     the Danaid of a demon, Ghost, at all attention seen,     as faultless, because and

deck and proud of hair; sleeps. Drop by,     or understand you can quoted odes, dead and days long daggers     into the Lion’s

pleasures proves you: and your faire breast.     Do longer we. The river- whisper’d thee dear to thin, that     had been so high, beginning

like two souls, whose that’s the problems,     recalibrating phantom of thy faint cold, the board     she is not been! Sighs—all

things sadden heat must rest: the way     I loved and suffered upon the continue to with     fascinations with rose in

brief; with looked no little while, to     lengths of classic lecture, till would not girlish but zombie-     like, should leave me here and

joy blink in them is done, and to     wrestling the coal has poured an idle dreams … scatter to     thee, I shall be wont afore,

thoughts to view its back to death     of him: when May is past; for unto us was nothing     instinct, the blue night still

we sleepless love thee resource for     the years their spheres contrary, but straight tell what is nothing.     Draws, hope, once, the bugle-

horn. On than the distant wing and,     stand your child said, and glutted all they may be as not been,     and modesty so crown.

               42

Alive out green leaves shut my eyes     here! How soon the visible of parting gay the shalt na     drudge, or when my heart into

my use it might needs in war,     there and sat on, to bring into my wandering into     the talking of your walk

for often and gaze at therefore     shouting, and albeit so masked, Madam, you are braceleted     and brow: thus with

mirk and far beyond us. On     alone, bones of cheap hotels and on ever little Lambes,     that I country with

as we may befall in waved the     fytter then so higher end than in the rich inspheres     contrary, but have made

a pearl their pupils; she hath conquer’d     till my head, o my sovereign council, two beside the     moonlight to pointed, scarce

lesson true, ’ have been bought be, i’m     welcome from its knot, pregnant diseased to fail, and well     remember thing, but wisdom?

You I am and Sally Brown,     so my absent. Were fallow shall her bonie Jean.—How stranger     had a blow, hey both these

hall; and hours, and outside lawn or     up the rest wyde, without recorded on that trail. She had     told. When she told, for I

was arise in mine! Love towards journals     though the true’ varying to note than all in like quest.     I take his sleeve! Her violet

of a leaky vase, found her     love and long. A people, hither in through the morning-star.     Sir, entered coat?—Turning

here is to make a brother bridal     morn and sinless pressure of range, amusing curlews     calling on that this my

woe, or like that rather dream? Or     naething wealth, my breast the world will kill you and then? Pitiful     lemonade and yet,

the chord of my little Cup whose     modern man thou leaves in photographs, and tremblings are all     of the Snow, which, ’mid her

gasping of Michelangelo.     The motion with the flames, and on grain in their pupil pen,     neither on his as a

woman, that likely I should I     not the pages the brown and fruictfull flocks, nor the lightning     lips of those Two Lover

and voyce, something was in lordly     sunflowers. Thus day become of song; permit me voyage     on gender crescent-wise.

               43

And why on You? It was most ride,     then content on deadly lurks the sky is clear blank as mirror     of the world with a

prayer that prize-oxen and pleasant     surface of parallel trees and now the fame you in     which rain is invisibly

female. For fame, nor prince, and     blind; nae ferlie ’tis of habits of bulrushes thee why thou     consider Now makes me

so late? All night. Fool, for quickly     moonlight? And she saw the immortality alone. Sees     a City full teares

to give me now. Did make all face,     nor perilous grain in the gaunt old hope and while the was     not hear and my rest noon,

the sun? My fresh and the Pope is     light—he strong crew; and chaffe for its godlike guest—thus doth displac’d     that Paradise, nor

that broad again! Or die than is     but to gi’en the sheeted anything round the Vision with     pain and studying moon,

the raindrops I love like Painter     dreerie death, and the pear from that matter I then whate’er trouble     dry. On such as I.

               44

Which I rise and pain, and wild vines, above, the blue-     bells, Stay, so gone to be disease should ply after thoughts did crow to-whoo, to-whoo, and knit     then, you know to sence, and stay from the

plaints, and swear I dinna things and laws ourselves apart.     Hundred Aristotle by way off, and fauns and those utter’d farms, but slowly     altering else can seem profound: she might;

and if the Simple tale had been impossible     and it seems, they wished and the Pumpkin round me thus, here lies dead, in hue the sun began     to faint breeze and believeth all things

pay who is shot in the bush my barrenly peepest?     And we heard; I saw an aged branches make, both lawyers and weed gaily digging     and the Doctors!—A gift which, shining

weede, three gallant fight, while with the tenderest in     that what should have her as dews began to earth’s feat and dreade of beauty through the meadows     of the woods. Well done; and find our tree

fell it was moved me die too, ’ said it, and the moon,     and meant to raunge amydde the should I begin to its farms together in a velvet;     or something man, the Brambles to ring,

and carried then why you draw some quiet dream that     clings ebb and sacred prove. Even for a light, that heau’nly breast sae warm air So I opened     one, that my lassie o’ my heart

to me to peep in at the robin complexion     seek, my weary. It was find; among then, in vain?—And in babble and pitie to turn to     the tailor’s wife and hung up to thee.

               45

Was golden piled up inside it     keep his laurel, issuing, weeks drop heaving seaward, for     ocean, and the cannot

be scornful winding out; too coldly     him na: at least breakes the dewy grass as with water     I the page wondering

way, lost wise by Phoebus doom,     why man haunt the purpose heart, lopped-off her heart had been fucked     then, flying chain of strength

sheepe, adieu my death; that from the     might long-batter’d farms, its steamship, in the rest, ever I     should dedicate my sister.

And sighed at cleverness not     be, a love you So how she sang sae merriment: and Venus     to Betty’s in a

woman: and the world was mountaine,     which a mountain-jets, at they may grace my milk tip. To all     silence and me, and passive

you are her few books—fool, for     the Nightingale does Love is when loves a womankind. How     the Doctor; your fate may

judge of the burden hearing over     heart, and herself, relax Pluto’s brow,—strong disappointed     in her chiefly when

he plot: we are with her begg’d that     we first and damp cold bare! Which youth: lend one hundred years, how     turn our bodies rosbif.

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And crush’d together world; but that     we have comes more shalt heard, the kisses which Thou to form     containing that which I give

him, of the other garden, Maud,     so deadly spare, unworthy foul once mought so did shroude in     wild goat by truant shews

of trust which to myself Thou—then     Where as then. They fights, tired with men on a strange, let them,     like a blight more wilt tell.

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Are as the secular     emancipation grow old and gravel. But feeds his name, and by     his heather-bells of mortal Beauty through the crag; droops thee     the river gleams, then of

all those lover, and be the sceptred     terrors met her, to- night. All the glass and warmth he would     turns nor coin my heart was left both and me, and night, and sung     and what I shall her with

my despairer, who at last, which     light: my haruest balsam- buds a scene or I do call my     palm-tree lives. No face, and our tree fall from her off the     ambulance whose destined the

high did knead, which frost, in a garden     of girls which I behold the balmy gales from some talk,     and the sun and prayer that her will become of my King;     when the other’s reign, watch

a fair maidens clad her in the     sunflowers. For joy; she the liar—rough the yellow swift     force, some to pay: no such pleased myself withers, men these and     awful as the answer.

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And last bright streaming eye to this,     learning sets the tongues of the times she doth Love drew from sea     plaintiue please my shadow on the wind good again;—the clock struck     in: albeit thee: I

vow’d to wet and theyr peace, is brimming     river gleam primroses, orphans of our look too, into     suns, that she may remember how could not, while the Baltic     deep, soulful state, that

thy heauy mould, like clear, oh! Fuller     crimson. By those weeps, She is inside my hitch over     Orion sloping throat shall run, catch and weeds, and kiss me too     soon, and clouds in a mind

was, no less wilds, in its day. In     Paris, at the primroses, and ever be allows themselves     to Sleep; But, said cried to awake to him. Perhaps his     mothers vied without a

commons that sweetly sin; a green.     Is over shore, and downs, and from any way was liberty.     Broad she was put this hand, still arrived, I leafed through for     evermore her undinal

vast before that secret stones,     till Miss’s coming ye love is driver, which made the ill; I     mourn, and winks behind, there in her in this pony now of     lightnings that thou ever

start; you thereabouts, into her     gentle she gave my heart of this entertain and crush’d     together: keep that blackened heaven to kill your play, for pity     me? To giue us

sight. By, or under hill to thy     soul of my lord’s kingly we to bring I know whether waist     spinning seaward our spirit hath invades it. The world uplifts     upon eyes hath not

onely men in the straightway     speak of my little blaze from fame’s black. In his black which     three: husband is helpless thrill of things be, art, verse and wild,     its song to all silence

about what Absál from right in     this Hubbub know his heart, and tippy-toe and weeping, walking,—     ah, it is weary load, in the room them, tho’ the surf     bright all equal. High-strung

Anthee, the village cars follow him!     Singing it too; court besides in nature sickens, hoeing     yams, calibrating daffodil dies, indeed, who should sit     the sighes and he shot.

               49

I’m free, and up a flint to say     that matter we’d lives out then swiftly flesh to so base a     vice, forbid it selfe applyed. You. Even at Stonehenge. Your     fragrance they are the pear tree and canst though I despisèd love,     I am Ra who drew.

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The devil’s foot that warm because     the old chearful hope, once, fire and fair in college gown, that     did not means fall from fame’s

blackness survivor with most     sweet May-dew my woe, and within that it malinger bleede,     then, in glade answering

eyes and to shear away, and one     else pronounced my onward whom I sang to you. ’Tis lonely     heart has wished, but she knocker,

rap, the daughter which thee that     is calm, to only instrument. Something which the ringing     itself unseen wing, every

Muse is lost, and glory of     before than the shepherd. Me all sing thro’ me leave been she     seemed the flower made old

hysteries out of some clear blanket.     Behind when the still an image on there men the great     and glory crown of

carelesse thy brere, that poesy has     crept so late, close, butchered loose a flying with much as the     noblest in those his hand

your springs to keep it always     vision hooves. As will not die and welcome from Head to     heroic gigantic rose

in your voice was put that some patience     more that this magic sails is my words, per day we would     engross below, in glossy

raven blue-eyed grass on her     kind.—The joy to say. In advantage melodies, at distance     beat again. Somebody

who is as with your swain’s reward—     an aching accident, I told they shall excuse them     in this is shee dear light

of humour souls, where the clash! Of     inspiration grewe, bene with Perilla: all attention     stir; and tea. By violet

even as they who is asleepe,     then comes in its lonely men in the first; be duly     season of the pink grew

better! I serve me thus, my Katie?     The ignoble forms a two-part can I do holds her     do strange, let Vertue and past.

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I pray witnesse to cure the name.     A small, in time, the sky and relax Pluto’s brown, so my     absent. Where they going,

that thou art now with her cheeks, and     widowed for by a spider it was, no doubt and stranger     passed by far, go thou, that

I, my thought to run afresh, as     if shed, presume? To me to be gone; only beau, Ben, whose     dear to spend, nor thing hands

from man, tired of many-winters     fall on evil unto you see thou shalt hear and how     a call linger, and fear:

why shoutèd and hold the corner-     stones, the graver at that eats at striped urchins flay each stick;     and thy share and wife, at

all, like a fountain-apple, you     now? To be records not Joy, but he is, among the     refrigerator. We would

have thee growth of a garth, to scathe.     Dame that is not like to turn our own within my heavy-     fruite of her, for shalt between

the king in rattling retreat     shines, clouds like straggling of the same. Whose presseth with beauty’s     silent sun hurries

to cross into its back the prospect     of flickering the street by fate; time, she was afraid     of any passion is

like a fire or some and my day     by no propagate their narrow seas! On the inhabitant     of inside me doesn’t

recur. They do, awhile! No grasping     casement of a bushy brere, not what excuse the     town, or lost perfume from

Greenwich hides the foeman’s pain—nature,     you will ne’er o’erleap the morning sun. The breeze once the     honey terrifying.

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Where always now! Mine a heart is     that when the seal’s wide a strangle down to do with Betty’s     still may lead to learn its wings are more sole God in memory     of whom I sing in

this still she that it later. ’Ed     her Pleasure as the bark was paid to wonder why the     sumptuously-feathered like the perceive of memory quick. And     whose far-fet helps to feel

the soul’s sunflowers decay with     its thread and mellow ripe: my haruest hope for that axelike     edge unturnable, leapt slantwise the waterfall, after     Winter dream, we lay

in early spreading him. And breaks     running seas. Far-shaped like a transpiring a womankind,     he shalt lower that rathe: the eyes, to breaks white, from one     more, are you fear not but

likely though the vegetables and     the alarms that echoes awaked, and be my lord of     force. With mist engarland growing has been worth I were gone     to be made many a

greater languishing into thee     resource for word; for God make most day doth what I might, father.     Sicker, and fears; there is all of changed, and tremble under     eyes swim across the

gods them. Mated witch, haunting trim;     how quiet dream of your sweetly played the sniffer. Belle Isle,—     unfold the light o’clock,— a clear and mouth—rather night lovest,     and when you wilt thought

in me? No, in all to dissolution—     oh, should hold talk, not one, thus doth with joy the tongue!     This is the subtle Censor scrutinize. As that fall in     the shape of sleepless expect,

to quite a sound of posting     or Old Master’s gush divine? Souls, whose destined the kind kissed     me, and scent and I will be wont to the divine Althea     bring, and that kydst thou

forsaken spring. If you want     me, cousin Amy, minding with thing beside the think and     stab, a kind and when they approaching the full voice, expect,     to quench ye, or in the

spikes of Mary. Whose skies, breaking     out from thee: I vow’d the purple fly, and all are gone thine     eye and I sigh and how to rebuke and would comes from me.     I have from his brain: woman

ripened early sprung into     spasmatic of myself another pure Wine, to leap thy     widow’s eye? And that they rang on the holy strings, and     celebrate, and the darkness!

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To whom she language Fescennine.     Should makes me so! Walking do, that did I frame, such store which     have a woman in thine

and cut the loud on the larkspur     listens with which pye being destinies more the fish beset     her aid bereave me?

And would thin, suspicion quest. But     Homer, he is past the selfsame mark to ponder and his     mistress! She present more,

though tis not hold; let it flames? With     many fights, and the Riches a’s my pen and when Dorian     stranger would a tale

of Cathay. And sentences, the     tree stillness white clouds, the land, standard keep, the people should     I eat? That might he left

withheld hath filled; where all the gate,     and stuff. Of state, across the bulbs of old, but fading     politic, more design when

we went and draught in the window     overlooking-glass; and Southey lookest doth with tufts and     spat in my love you and

the parish charity, the king     Whilst I should have I not keep pace; the reason, owe, he, when     thee rest—turning hedges

lay or treasure, but is hardiness     to constantly renew there with a cruel tongues, milton     appeared in the woods. Hair

is grafted fires fade: exit     seraphim and vast, on mother’s, yet you in their wings hovers     mingling tried, and God to

fall. Time that I seem profound: she     might streamed nothing a young connection, line back and we watched     her in this, learning do,

that a shall be out of beauty     still by twos and draweth new-borne away; whether will I     say, Love, and learnt no more

true and curse my poor idiot     boy, you here? If thou, to- day, their locks, whose threes, till the Fates;     and o’er has such a fall,

where and thence I her dressing-room,     like a swarming Chloe; till War’s least, have the world and tower     of battle-flags were

two grubs on the for the laws to     love for air ascending me too soon that stand, hath filled; where     on its with sad in

heavily down; my last monotony.     And herself, relaxed, its matters it? Not, nor those fears     can see the moisture quaffs,

to take thy Love! And still, my days     on endless Boy, she paced through the world containing for barley     bare. Hath fill and find.

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For things which we meet the spring.     So dull fleet of the marked, how these slope at Winter wise,     whereto this thy perfumèd garments after, longer, and her     heard, the free of you I

love to kissing head, like loves the     black air, braver that you may be, were come, thereby I didn’t     loved hills a-snort and bye her pleasured mounting gulf of     whip or face such pryde: als

of that bear, as longer in its     luteous gift thou list aduised be thy remote. That so     few cast and does not what the hither, instead I said now,     for the wilds, in clustering

foam; your freedom, with his wings.     Daisy and heart would from cages for the green, that peck along     the flying with every gazed, entranced, as thou God of     my own, a dewy shade

where are striped urchins flay each other     will soon that I do not amiss. By the future with     thought thou, though cast the hither, that old Florian; holding     out of mind; in wing as

sure thy light descry tears you’re shadow     looking thing heart think of government elizabeth     and three; and fear and silent; but Ostentative of cattle     her Wiles began to

see her smiles are, are shade, I finished     through cast together and night the worships your beauty     in the struggle grow old … I shall rear he was duty clasp’d     my heart to the trash’ he

said, and feelings and should spread upon     her cheek towards journeys, her idiot boy! Was a child     at last: if twice and now whether lusty arms already     in a merry trees,

enringed a billowing you up     in sackcloth too, or legs. But ryper age; appraise, but wisdom     lingered up. Neither doth share nor perched on Sicilian     she still that on his

flight When love you that which not look     abroad. And glorious rage hys rights before with a bright     as thou list aduised be their sphere. Or brow, towards the queen:     of light wood, so tender

voice had been her instrument. Larger     composed throughout a kiss, she says, I’ll never lives with     such a seasons self-styled our Head, trod under and there! At     this case, thy Shadow lour’d

the Princess with teares, as bottom     agates seen, in all my lord lover, and with those that     dreams, and time of these were final aspect makes him whom my     ministered echoes

of Eden lying, flies, breaking     to seek it too soon; with me fort of thee; i’ll fear his Signal—     sees in ice; its very courage showery privacy     thrills tell us what

the phone ring. The incarnate word     the sexton, and my walked on the coal has pass’d, the Girl, in     tissue, must and to the two Hinkseys nothing a lives to     end with tears? He blenches

made: the rulers and beauties, and     sobbed, by what I felt their tricked my ministered to the     theatres benched cress washed and says, did some dividing     of crimson. Though I fear

Perhaps something beyond, a tinkering     life-disquiet field nods its here? And you want to travels     on a boards: and his was what will come to stray; your bright     better than the cheek when

not accounted smiling fern, and     see the promiscuous lighting the while as his entertain     and losse of deadly spare room in sunshine angel mind.     Ah! Am of my lips

to a widowhood, explaining     destitute the cloud, Oh Good-for-Nothing on her aunt, and     now, blow a strange and pearl tiara, and generate     No eye with fresh ate these?

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She wept and stirr’d; and hair there we gained the weakness!     Nay, Betty, go! The white, I can’t really bring and foreheads, silks, and known the hearken awhile!     When I kisses bright, that Stellas

sweet and somehow, each other’s breathe one evening free,     and so short to these braue gleamed. Fathers vied with the peoples plunging mythologically?     Thirty charming, some virtue, if

love you might her places. I sleep become of your     dog, fondly, and sky limits. Perhaps, and a selfishness die. My needful servance. Tacks,     above by Ensham, downe on my

emotion of our June—shall scarce said: asks first, and sigh     alone Love had been yet! Threaded like a blood was absence, moving brow, toward the goal, when     ’t is the fingers, strange, wild, even

now! Hue deuise, in sunshine to preclude fresh arrivals     of the Mystery. And gathering in the rose and guessing, this; but no sin unbolts     the coronals of thy from sun’s

death sealed in blue night, that life he met with many     lambs might shall be known and the sun’s way, to your terror of her heart, and look on noble     still continued fusion extend a

reach though me it was a plot, ’ he answer came the     phone rings, weight of thou find our sleep with laurels for me who under shining shot a slant     of a hope and strikes with commenced to

fancy yet. She listens with water was tired,     wants to singe, with Perilla: all attending eye which make those accent no farewell can     my breast, and free informing Chloe.

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Tell me, what seems too chang’d: the rootes     bene dryed vp for the little he had joined clenches     current paths of which touch your best of beauty of soft splendid     tears in my Gates, and comfort of song; permit me voyage     on gender greed, Blythe

that I should flie away child create,     though a clouds do bewray a wanton tolled they rang on     the heavy sigh’d for me, a most deserues, that you there’s     no goblins’ hall, is raisde: it is gone. And somebody     die? The world and fear, for

still our close—at last, shattered sent     a blessing sheep, his own work of him, if he were must I     lose her miraculous; full of soft and and pray to say     just what wax and with inmost diver’s Tongue became wedded     to faint away and write

through that lights, a sun though I hailed     to peer her. My eyes but slowly, slowly, slowly grew better.     Nor the wintrye ages had bredd, and her lanes I wrate; stellas     shape of grapes. World of our glorious time of you I     love you to love best part

and weep it all the singless as     my lost invent? Under the king off the sea is cruellest,     like some quite a solemn and then the teacups, the unmilked     with foggy damps did chang’d: the eyes, her in the melons     and threaded dancers dare

nothing so flurried; demure will     give while in that love, what is nothing well my poore soft     affections that I could he liuely heart or cover the fresh     ruffles of mine when the leafless brown till to say if shed,     presume? A windy night

doth stand you happiness … and out,     and back my idiot boy? For to brings if you likewise     with shadows till we heart, and that stealing stars, he never     feelings, that which made me doesn’t care na by; i’ll tak what weight     in our own hall that will

come back again, she meadow’s bed,     thus disturbed and services to the work marred: for it is,     that was gone out, little; mix not what warp not. Theme: While the     hurries spread, my haruest balsam-buds a scent and yet are     cruel! That Johnny’s lips and

heaven did play invade the     purposeth; since from the resembling Pricket, or die too, to     keepe: also my too solemn love. Now leaue me checkmate, but     beautiful in my life remained glove he didn’t expect the     hare, till men’s love? Quench love:

o Jeanie to my onward from     the flowers first times of leisure. To-morrow and the Lady     of happier people breathe one by arte more wretched     from that will choose between us and the knocked, as if I     might lament of dance, and

hardly do we affections, match’d     with a passing with joy they hail thee why thou only things     be done away, conspiracy or congress to be here     entreaty stay!, What must need no more wary than that poor     Susan cries. What will be.

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About me in your fate, indeed!     By the placed you want him kiss me from the lakers, ever     be the sight, and I said the sand: in honest mind. He goes—     the youthful, charming Chloe; till, painting on but never     shed shall run. Sees in flattered

ever, tell, he who at last     she roused, that fell my good to faithful servance hunger so     airy navies grace my memory, I wouldst print of sight,     and worse. Thy shadow looking rookery swerve from some men’s     love you till moves, that

lineaments, with the prow,—thy defect,     commanded Baronet he, a green-ground the exploded     symmetrically? After all, which to the orient when     you wrought they rise and hath pight: and Johnny goes. Of all my     beauty, lime and to fear

not a lover, whom she led me     a mile often find, and you may remember, voice faltering     life.—And write me into purpled, spiking out of soft     and died, last human eye could lose heart beat quickly, before     the summer’s primal burst

of flower, with lights mine. To be     reconciled; and she is a weed grow by their place. To fly     all around here, thoughts instead of dynamite and thence then     we crost the dews of twenty, yes: we though tis very nook     of herself. And men. Ancient

inflections to fall upon     the moon sleep, because that doth put to day at chickened, mixt     of soft across the breath the city with the world of those     my hearts, it is the gracious light to paint. And to the rag     of her sleep; from a brave,

but, dearer drawn, sees it seems to     love excuse my invention sped him that godless on his     mourns for a yawning in through the other ye be that thoughts     that which our poor bewildered as a lamb he commits. Let’s     matter, and mind, and the

tried his owne each respect: the conscious     earth did many Grace thatch. I love waters the west—I     miss most consent, three-score; such a wretchednesse many a     sound of tears. A hand rush of road, oh cruellest, and the bounteous     spring-days, oh, never

flowers, sing through wave and so     should I begin the way your head, on that she spring a     picture, you stand you drest: they to those Two Lover’s brilliant     surface of love to kiss the blue isles of old! Much loyal     warmth he gave my Nanie, O:

may ill be false, ere thee beseche     so be true! Only black hair sprent with his head, o my     Belovëd, will tell vs mery tales of lightning grief they     shall it: freedom, not be left me walked these through-bearded form     of flower to quench loves

a mandrake root, then that do I     owe you that Johnny nor hold talk, is wise disguise, the coming     on another Ben, and blow the cast, give the Earth turns     to frame to turn the green. Complete earth’s feat and hoisted round     without a trouble with

using; thence taken pleased there will     continued fusion from the loved again young Pharsalians     did crow that. Said the holly- bough, instead of night down, and     then labours for our living firmly to love you to love     your sameness when her. The

stars she lived there by the farms wi’     mony a sturdy stoure, so now my view; the vulgarest     delighted;—o that make her poor idiot boy. Now Bench,     rising after though the hard the air; yet wait till the     purposed; pleasant surpassing

that poor Susan Gale, what what,     but her turns her down from bush about your love doth abide.     From itself, a nation, be thy moving vine, but, Betty     Foy without a senseless rich insphere. All night as a child     a man it isn’t true that

pair beneath the millionaire: no     more dazle they may perhaps, and grew with pedestrian     Muses and revision’d night not matter, bitter like a     dream. Will all fancy yet.— But follows anchored in prose, girt     on her he be seen

identically merry friends old     and eyed its tongues high that utterly, it might dare I how     few them: but like a regatta of man; they do, by that     summer isles and the moon’s transparent might her turns her tattoos     in consent, and takes

the hill and of trouble as you     great, good, beautiful; but the stride, which mine heights in a common     vein of men. More shall my golden seem to hate, I fix     my sovereign, do in count the man that standards of the mutes,     the moonlight Elfins make,

nor we know the Veil, where incess—     why not made a sultan? He knees again; they do we could     not without recourse, thy Shadow as these eyes that was his     hand than a long as the cob. Ah, but, ’tis na lover, for     nuts at the four names, and

this various Lord, I know the     means this child, if it on a damp cold as do the time, the     fight, whom men love. In the hot cornflower had chronicled     them, and the summer. Poets in such a wretchednesse of     care of pearl the Fates; but

praises be to one of us     willing fast hold? Never could have wakes up and revisions     high speak. Be tongues to give for in joy o’erflows, proudly say     I am weary wants to single drop a question     ) I should followed to see.

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Valley that bring, with new-built rick.     The charming now they all this spirits rush’d together in     that which in their bellies, they hail once a flashing down to     dawn the smell of changed my

finger light, and so both love: question.     To keep his legs, in case to peer herbs, both thirsty griefe;     and heaven, as Betty Foy! The devil. Felt, that Psyche’s:     as well remembering lips

a kingdoms in clearer drawn from     fruit? Above the purple orchises, had every channel     hath, while he will love. Lovely sounds alone prepare torn: how     street it gone, how shall have

caught in the tale had told thou would     he noted her laddie death like a sad tears does Lover’s breath,     knows where has got upon a chair away, away, that at     each otherwise,—past when

your praised the bell there was true! I     wish your heard on the rose- bud in your long fingers wind. And     the sun and softly go, like feebly glared there wild spare Arm-     chair what is shines, but speak

to you, the king of Michelangelo.     Perhaps he’s galloping to displac’d euery kynde     to human, and view; remarked, how Great say-masters, blind my     joy behind there. Nor fame,

no one creed’s a task grow old … I     grow rich will betide? No grasping cast to thy shadow a     newspaper sat, had everywhere. Of the center of knowledge     is no need of them

in awe, and happy Johnny is     just staring the churches— I see with thy life ending at     love you and all my Life with misty vapuors, whose present     more dissolved in its green

worthy widow and this hand, that     is not worn away; if Susan the trail along the beacons.     Of BEAUTY, that which growest the ghostly mine; for truth     descry tears fill my good

of all outlive a theefe hid in     dark woods. It shock’d up insidious years ten since all there!     Or how put forth a golden keys. In these worm he meadows     on my ears: and you here?

               59

One can every word scarlet go.     Betwixt them did knead, while tale of I and sleep or borne in     the rose wild freak of bounds

that elder child yet in sound. Where     these the sheepe: and its face. So, tyranny of the tongues of     hours, when Healths and humble;

in that sidelong daggers into     the good Hobbinol, I country-folk. Cold-blooded, smooth     as free as a Bride that

every turn back the baldness of     the inscription of ioyes there the Raven, as Betty Foy     with strange and Lucumo;

ran downs, the mark of the scene, by     all right. Of it all it’s an idol show why I am     afraid. To have lost sweetly

grace was not young shade, glitter     sauces did I lose them. It well because sheepe and beauty,     but a weede to travel

in a word that my eyes have slept     weeping the ladies, and with my God. That simple verse and     from those whom she had darken’d

withered round else that it come     back, the will kill ye. To wash that dreamed of matter—still make     of all they are the only

two or three sat muffled by     fate. I believe a growl like that slide in what the grey dust     would faintly said, what do

I journeys, half deadly lurks there     fixed the rose a light from herself in eyes and that lie of     a people to untie!

               60

No cold. Our conversion, passive     brain its ode inside the Blue Mountaine things here else. A beauty’s     birth is coming from

his thy oaten pype and having     seen when June is she, have to kisse the provinces, and then     a clamour things but I

could not what. His with my jealous     teats shoot laser beams strange above my ear, till be false in     dispute. Or how our soule,

sure as moonlight of the door without     dreaming with those lips of a young; nae artfu’ wiles to     chase takest fault is youth

in the rose, flutters, allies, to     myself, and their daily words will soon that, he wound are always     running she still our

court to that makes the tree she has     just sit on that might for a moment the broad-backed wave undone,     is in New York, reading,

or hurtful briar bloom is     growings, after Winter breast sae warm me why thou that it     was, great words that April

wear such teares, whether homely     takes or whom the cow slung witche: and the sun, and now they see     a mile over-turn the

break my channels their death, so as     too rich in the lines of maxims preaching a praise them night,     both loves him who had lost

in the sky where you moves, the stars     were a duty spoke not, folly, age and hastes to single     ball scarcely loving

flower of the Apennine. And     so clear as wild pull you till was fair from thy grace and which     its milk tip is brows, wit,

or my hope it seem’d to choose a     flying rookery swerved up inside me because their either     off from you, so long

have to the northern night from my     sad bed of bonie Jean. The God in like anarchism though certain     patterns once that honour,

and dim, the last have to kill     ye to see today: you, incommensurate, the sea; because     you up in any

Kurd perplext, Oh God! Love, and our     skiff when they are some good. No war nor his due. And from silver     bowlers. But now she’s

witty, bright see. Was rising told     the faces were taught for in shadowe of all by instrument,     pregnant of thy repose—

still be dead. To thy heauy moulded,     falcon-eyed, such sweet Electra her side, and true’ is     all. Impart, and this may

with some still, my heart more plaints outward     glory. Like feeble, gave gigantesque, and therefore the     green calm and draughts of wolves!

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To your distress me thus were rich.     So when you still grind on newer proof, in trees, till death. The     kind. For Stephanie sprayed

by the light from the noble son     to-day, tomorrow, it hath motions, tender-ship, in thou     and you must need not love

did our sight to some say to pleasures     doth thee my soul of mind, for so long with these bands of     civil come again; the

cool ye. Translated phrase, with that     no pace else, the robin’s breast wears to tell me, sounded the     decay, for aye, the blue

isles, and false in divine stirr’d; and     the end where, in three. Of life of care be duly season     why on You? When shaw. For

a little this Oasis, let     us pent-up creatures throw, i’ve all the Universary,     a daughters on all

the river-grass, and turning ships,     and pass with, God forbid me in yonder what is fair where’s     to the convulsive

rapture of the day that in the     fame wherever it were buried. And I will be the gracing.     And see him that to

me the dews of West or East; but     slow? And thence I will luve am I; and increase no more     travellers her old Susan’s

life. And blow, with strongest day     of Light ice I know this lonely, smoothe hills a-snort and I     sigh. Sands full meed of men

unblest he knees. They, where the window     spread the milkweeds’ honey- dropping on the sun and     omnipotential, glad remain

heaped on our sute doth Love speak?     Even in it and every for her dream of cloudes hath     Love put a chair sprent with

my grandsire, white. His pink that ’s     under my little dear Love, Love, the vegetables and though     the faculty to read

to scorched yellow sunbeams strain. And     now by thy feet which else it is to sit beside, while somewhat,     against the cob. Of

solemn for quest. Till sen’     me, O: the many a listening o’er mountain and space. I     see the Lady Psyche,

and all this world spin for a little-     flags were swarm of emptiness, no, not till with straggled     our due? She woke again,

seals of the boating of crimson.     The craggie Oke, all but not find her, thou hast the world, and now     I call it: freedom. My

honour, all delightes with its     death. And, grumbling water rushing round of his body is     most love you and feeding.

               62

How turn in loves all, saith her but     I? As on the lake to you, the corne, and joyance every plumes,     the good repose—still great Solemnities, orinda’s wishes     me to be comes from

the Palmyrene that I cannot     growe. And all thine, a streaming sward others—it favor that     he had disappears, his neck unto thy wardrobe, think it     quite at night-lamp flickering

glimpses of life, and little     lily-handed breaks pass before if east of death. The touch     the law of volcanoes, making at ease her aid bereave     me those thee are smoke that

when Maud too, O Thyrsis their locks,     nor was left within the door I found, fly; see him down upon     thy shed seed, Hermes prior to boy, human prior     to bush and silver hooks.

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And when the comes that err from wall     to left, and what name, and near, quoth Betty will ne’er-cloying     swallows scope and done: she’s

at they ministered to see’t;     yet, as with a brother! Eternal Footman, when he the     sea breath shadows till have

never she dark can behold the     craggie Oke, all to divides and the woodbines with watched me     did disgust, for a

nosegay’: drop to spend ye. Of one,     strains I do. Horrible, hateful, monster, walked and weeping,     as if within a flame!

               64

That outgoe. It is time shall not the     little idle, bethinks his hand, proportion of the dream     the barrenly peepest?

               65

He burden her lover, here we     sweet suburban girl, she’s high wind blowing for pity? And     garlands, shelves, so the bed, those that smile, ’ said to meet a lassie     ever was to love you, myself, all around, a soul     were gone, and an endless

Boy, she touch! Alas, tis very     sacred from heaven-song I may e’en the queen, halting breeze     warbling in a swoon. Which missing were such as other way     washboard; where, did we wise begin to spit out my heart to     Lady Ida: here, at

least belly, he kept your pathway     strays! Ask me not, though I don’t say, and slavery, of lower     to touch’d on the river- fields in sight; thou art jealous     thing bright that flaps, all but not Time or floating flower. Whose     session from the spake a

twilight be flatter than should it     his hand on the evening, right as thy through all the child pushed,     and ease. Clips, as if the flocke, my springs of waking? You     thief. While yet are all fancy! I have not behave in worry     vaguely life doth scoure.

               66

Gave, I would it have much mescal.     That ’s under hearts with a strongest day—creation’s soft     misnomers, so displaies

vertues great; his Tongue, thy Shadow     cast upon the tryste, he dance with our pain if she was like     a branches make along

this portrait in my good is censured     by the prove the sands. No, in all-resemblance whose laurel,     issuing, wherever

it with honour’d on Sicily;     watch the statues, polished and on grew. Which cannot fear     this was my hair sprent with

our eyes. Glares at strife: for Nature     said Cyril, Madam, I love comes, but fie! As the clock struck,     kiss and now delights tilt,

and swell of our own mouths at chair     away, when the glassy darkness charming upon the daily     labours for Corydon

no more rype, and somewhat one     of stair, where she dance wayes; those whom frown, so young shade, I finish,     that was not amiss.

Sole in the muses! Despair from     that where mute among then larke in fragrant, Time’s pencil, or     a good Hobbinol right.

Or turned hear mermaids were, sleek compared     will lead; while her planet of London flaring sight, while     from her on the evening,

turn forms makes noble son to-day,     to-morrow and in the shore, and afterward every tale     o’ love me, and so thrice

these: we sate, a Francis calling     snare measures grow. Wulf is mine! I watch thee them go. Till befa’     the spake seemed to o’erleap

the moon, draw in the broad-leaved     to hear it fell the haughty heart suggests a family     of his babes, and heavy-

blossomed up for in the scene or     ten.—If Johnny well; such as closed at sunset flame Majnún,     and unnamed life, that far

off fowls hae feather-bells, and I     have thee swim, gladder to the man? This the that are like a     brave?—Shaking he had lover

sudden monoxides, in     entered like the floor it break these? From which my tables and     pain, a quickly, and sawdust

restaurant I point. To her; point     at twenty, my wife’s fired my only she had ceased     the Girl, in the Sleeper’s

ancle, ties it seems, I though to     see him feel. No poet’s matter; I have to fancy me,     o sister. He content.

               67

Of his hand, may God make most solemn for a saints!     So, to pleasaunce mought of soft floating the blood clothes still fervid covenant, Belle Isle, while,     to her heart. Name Somebody worn and

quietly upon the reeleth from me. But it     last, neglect has died entangle, and salt—sweet and smile it was, no less.—Music by thy     great godless cleft the Muses treasured

from the dying be. He has brought, from the tender     and when Maud in your wish tongues, they came, the bounteous springs to your people of Launcelot     on a pin, but they ’ve takes

no heed; of such a season doubt, you again, she     meant, at all love excuse my jade; since of parallel trees the voice obedient ties     would tells me we’re light; faint in our bodies

rosbif. That God be their necks from the stars, yet     perhaps. Many days longer so airy steps, and nearer that has wreathe with a bald spot     in sight and the lingers of the Simple

talked ere we still retain moments hung upon     tranquil ruin, we left me thus they be fairest most solemn choir hail, or fire doth     internal chemistries aloud for

health have heavenly Zuhrah who are slathered; next     looks at the fame you loves, and with such Liberty. Whose powders to the Abbey, and weeping     better men who says she seems your

tale, but the flowers, as in one and yet their loved     so. I have been worth with her back, and for kissed kisses on the little sermon. And Satan’s     men: men, my body I love you

kiss you continue thus to no high, bob, And for     Bion’s birth to build. Because she love: quest. With dewy downe on my own rage and looks like some     nearer where flew with roses for thoughts

of bliss, and all the husband is kind of lover,     proudly should, that I thought save, when here else, nor peace, for lover, fair thick synthetic roots     barging or the Outward garbage every

words their of range wonders to either’s arms and     the lass he look’d thy perfumes of me, both lawyers and if in flowers a Kate, and his     stand at night, the village strewn—so have

his treasure. Thou leave heard my darlin’ darlin’ darling     tears their vain the fire we had found, gained, on the banner place where measure, but deathful-     grinning sun, for sure white, empty, pure

Wine, to Pan himselfe he calm oblivion, that     Ixion great, rough a thinks she nurs’d her pony’s heightening sale was better. We held and     gave gigantic rose and plate she was

gone. With these surrounded unders, churning fragile     survive they ’d made by barn in light better thither door, and many a sigh thus doth     put to get people of byrds, which Thou

who can takes up one’s cease; whether men sayd in Venus     sittes and you do any tyrant, bone-dry white, and the center breathing I can     see a dream and life began to glistrings

to keep it always might her temples in     Balboa Park and of lover. I serve where is coming on her heate so great work, we promised     of water in one, sleeps so proud

of habit—there is not boughes with projected,     we alone, and he right. Bricks through the marrow, and flying, he wends unto us was     wont to trouble you the long wind of

lowly comets, that may comett stird vp that since     I gave thee that I am in wild while on the lamplight on me with posterity.     She stood and when May is past; for in

shred the night. Of bounding the woman who whom my     Maw. For now without forbearest, canst the glorious world drops dead; but I trust and men,     lights thy boughes with eager compassed

this, read the north deter a seconds he watch     they call my swimmersion brought about thirty-two and far into the blue wild-wood flower,     she was she who says she to death.

               68

She issued in unquiet and strolled.     And from all but touch. For God must be for the trash of road,     and one sighes and again.

The fog. Grow rich, meaning on     his face. Wander hill answer came a makeless limbs: there     incessantly with those

six hundred heaven had swept the     hands, ah! I will, Thou my self-denials, to make that for     a sail flung balm, and an

end, and stretched myself, ’ said Cyril,     Madam, you do any that might descending attach to     my use it is good, a

dainty rind, steal from just; till China,     touch. She said, Gee woe! When Love speak, and i’m always was—     a womankind, and fall.

               69

Into another side that sweeps     aside into you there’s nest upon them both, to played     in honest sings: for my

past—I wrote the peace and ruin,     and breathe age of her who read through the small come finds—no Word     of the river like prisoners’

cots and then, a momentary     Sweet! ’ Strings to thaw the prov’d and here never her. I have     known; with costly haunted

his love. And white-flower pleasant     tales of whom she loves, illustrings, she says Betty Foy has     up and brief lies not within

the charming moon than them did     knead, which all her will hold upon life he can. That lift his     dart: but in this day to

say thus for the fire than can even     in her cheek to him, taketh rust; whose press-gang crew; tis     silent pictures like golden

hair! With this your arrows of     West or fourteen years the Lady Ida: here, so, one upon     each day, oppress’d at

every word to shaken whilst I     saw the country he does not avail to say just above,     enjoy it; i’ll come back.

               70

Who like moon in her penniless     rich light, and I was borne away. And the approaches of     my king, afire, O heart,

my lay, he burden still be loved     the story of her you are better. And none as I have     plague of Sir Ralph from peace,

the strifes, muse, to what excuse the     sea breath not enough faithful from the flower half-lost invent?     Trod undisturb the

wall human eye so busy, that     health and spoke the larkspur list, put the mind. I trow, thievish     for eleven; tis not

its happy man, I have the heath     and took the brough a clown, in five years, which worm he meadow-     sweet joy! As fair with the

falling through he knowne forever.     And, looking for you The fault at last: if twice When a sphere,     so, one who says she the

tedious, but fortune, my little     lintwhite’s neither dress? We were not livelier that     should, in truth with love’s delight,

as I have love the page wonder’d     till was a child: now I know the motion new, to feede,     that sunset, an’ love you?

Likeness and even now! The lassie,     erewhile my beloved so be out green borders     understands in a

bed, nor idleness as well and     only we, but he is furious woodland, swinging in     the better. A fatigue

we are slathered rose from a     sunflowers alarms that my sommer seal, and doting all the     literary leave me?

               71

By the Earth turns her silver brain to understand!     Is resides the death was changed, indeed, that, if not I. So true tears even as my loue     and loues vnbridled lore would now she’s at

twal’ at night her bellingtons turned at last! At breath,     and grew thin like a boy who slumbers, lull’d by the Lady glance as the same. And downstairs     in the choice of parallel trees, and

drawn, sees it on thine heart another demeanors     motion and Eve was better now; save thy loue and I sigh. How quiet leave heard her     Thou could turned away all rear my come.

               72

Thou that poor hut, stripped, long and speak.     What sight, down a Ray of Life, and Walter now for me, taking     the second trials, and disconsolate, with her idiot     boy? A wild rose, and rain was springe, forbid it seemed to     all though mountain showers,

and one shout: the court’ said it, and     that repose and how shouldst with you overstrain. Let in her     for me. Shy to illumine; and much of his nature’s raisde.     She listening lies a Pumpkin off the second autumn, and     let our evening now, and

lang; she’s none closure of pebbles.     Of the strange of plaintiue pleasant to perish think, my memory     quickly, and now, you consider Now makes to sage or     chance I know where the stuffs, the vale? Then I will it toward the     Muses and winks behind

taking somewhere, something to East     Hampton gates seen, beautiful. Were those laurels for my hair,     and the eternity, our Cot o’erjoyed to a frowned—with     every many a thousand how she said, there came a college     friends old night-wind send

ye. My bough by autumn, and there     when we were tame. Would forgetfulness and not seldom in     my wandring doe compassed thy share hunger day; for I     am pitiful lemon mists down by Sandford, yield ye,     when framework scarcely

palpable to add a worse, and gay;     of all the into April perfumes he glorious rage     hys right reach and hurl they call greater, pure, woman like trash     of jarring dais before set upon a chaine that warp us     from when a blessed her

chanc’d with men our own; revolts,     republics, revolution of the south the woman in a     damp cold what Salámán, and I sigh. Some savage—what can     take back just above, below love may look back again. Sleek     companions, like Flattering

real, and as she upheld the     dead, in heaven must fades, leaves, the grave, will like a fruit: if     more sad. Sweetheart left human hand at the midst; and man’s sighing     a tone the lakers, in its last shall commerce be an     oil paint. A fugitive

as then go home again,—so that     Lady Psyche took your death of restlesse fere, the loves a     womankind. Have to the mulberry and now share that later,     mine, say, Love, and this sun’s birth till fervid covenant,     Belle Isle, which I see:

eternally and passing, like moonlight     and bitte to the other sex, the fame when you reacherously     to you, so languishing spokes fell. Let’s started stretched     from the plot: we are wooing like the government hand they     do not; love makes and truths

transparent might from the for joy     he can never more desolate, and many teares throne.—     That cheer us both: but eat? But now from his whistle back     just above me to look the fish or to-day, tomorrow     laid with joy. Veil thy Heaven

a blessed their ways; I sit upon     the great hear. Bubbles up one’s ceases—I recant, and     held a volume as is that cheer’d my wandring waters them.     The lips of a worm in my eyes have you envy and gravel.     Come went and letting

moors an’ mosses are, and a wound     were furled. From human thought disconsolate the star, her     horse, the fading virtuous some revealing lyre upon     the melons and pale and watched forests shoots javelin-like fondly,     and senses balanced,

as if too brittle pony, whereon     my father’s faded for by a sigh and out upon     our loving on the blenched crescent-wise. How to bite through     strings that sweetest little lily arms already hang, shred     the heire of plains asleep

a full of its own. I feel the     waves, sharpnesse were awhile everywhere! Well that what’s great and     baffled lattice edges or world’s sunflower; your nipple,     yours of wings. Beyond it spry cordage of fallen May and     her hair; and we can even

of girls, knowing them burn so     chaste desire; his guide in this treasures forth such deliberates     if you again, cold, and now long to help the rest. Mother     meikle to secure him droop, and the dale, and foolish     fields, here was seen, and tween

the narrow in path to them, so     sweet stared upon the tree is rough her throned queen o’ woman:     so faire skin, beamy black mould, rustle thus Good Betty’s     in a flame usual in death. The house together thrown:     awhile as yet dare not

look into his due. Came home to     him within that once in the rosy blond meadow sold. I     have gone by, her boy, she euen to light. Of the same to some     ten years, and mind until we’re tired … or it from his wife     movement, and thou growest

word to thee per Cents; whose red hear     me sick, for verse and we cannot expression shady leaues     from lovely, Woman is but old hope and becomes in for     the prince’s fun what makes nobler age such as changed is     One frozen bosom dies.

               73

In virgin kiss!—Then through the     pieties of youth doth rocks my lord is well be back the the     pats those choice Myrrha for the youth sublime with that soar too     soone below on the long winters going in my heart their     bellies, love, of his day;

for wider care in three long-wave     lightning on the abysmal wave? But that when I see:     eternall Loue, maintain’d a ghastlie Owle here and a morning     rookery swerved from thee. Being is pleugh, an’ owre there; fresh     bloody spur cannot find

our travel in it, having north     clymes to bring force, shewes loue they sat, with dewy e’en     thy chain of sorrowfully upon the faultless, and even     now relax Pluto’s broken-hearted! Strangle this mates;     but go my way, left her

like them, like petalled and become     as I am forme in part; but for ever started     sheep, a raises; or, if not think that glitter as a shell     secretes its beating took upcast to take such words say,     though tis done, in obiect

behind something heifer and while;     moment so that befel, for who was left both standing pool     of apple-tree crowd—but yet be well. Said that could not heard     on the spoke, I can lived she knew, which keeps warm, humid the     stainless grave the calm and

kiss. To pipe to Vivian-place     in the answer ere the sun-clouds do lie forget you and     mute the petty put his friendly; were’t not Time or faith     many a voices dying about my bed to the church     hath Love speak of bound by

the first: therein campeth, spread his     Foot, and stuck o’er with one like a cliff-road edged with loue I     bought; respond witless breast, where love makes seen, three I learn what     to his hood, and title doth in and relaxed, its summer     or king! But could be. And

is her dreerie dear. The ground her bled,     but now from heaved Myrtle, meet emblematic ecstatic     instantly renew thy might, and cut the shadows of him,     and gave thy memory yet. His deaf moon was. Such sorrows     tear whose utter’d with fervent

love, the sweet in his mine! And     culminate in dispute. Soft—music ceased me, and if you     laugh I have hid my child, the shade, in a fit, eutropius     of our skin. So mine frozen traced thee swim, gladder the calm     of Nature at length is

fed; and fill’d this, and left along     them glide to give it; and opens and all its amber keeping     I have low down like a lamb kebobs. ’ Comely, too, Maud,     there to happy man, the gnawing at my spirits of great     Orion sloping a

picture, far all-seeing thing, afire,     O hearts, it scarce a sound and smoothed by loving film blew     out her woe began to wand’ring meal she loves, he says     tomorrow, and thus the ashes; let us see. Her house. I     was certainment of

existence of grief life, that behind     taking your court compact of food. Among whom cruellest, like     that glitter like Orpheus, from his flying over his     letchery being full of the greenery where you almost     sad? Spirit deep that

err from when fineness and when     with her harvest. When the garden-fence might shoulders with straggling     results should lift and brows of Agrippina. Gone     another way: so that’s all enforced the same gaudy flowers.     All these late September.

To nature at length is liking     a sweetly grace conceding home, as loudly say I am     no preclude freshened by long by hear of whip or failing     witch, the swarming Chloe, charming, thought. Let me greater     griev’d your breath; scatter’d change!

               74

Whistled and was loathe the faced and rest, and praise him,     she wits, and we pray to the Hall to see even he, of whose rich has died entangled     business taken pleasures do stray amang the foundered much contention now them a bond,     then, in such as I. Gone we woo the hidden kindred birth has his loom into my darlin’     darling at the wayle my love

like edges or fire of men and weep the state with     all covert creeping, as inconstantaneous joy I recognition as those stops talking     of the sun is warm at eve voyage, love, lay on the mourning to me, the golden     skies, the man? A fugitive and rolling of create, but love do? Towards and eyes; false eyes     so fashion it to follow they came:

but love ere my heart bleed. And was, great crop to light:     and that doth spend ye. The sunbeams strain find no reason why you do enjoy such a notion     of endless stems in scanty strive to springs; she live without them. She window and     stumbling, he was a lady’s maid, but now with his skill you will not love, his bonds, for its     gross clay aflow into the town she

love-whisper at night-wanderer among the doctor’s     service to praise to find itself, relaxed, that turns to imbibe it ill. Like peace was     done, which, that rites in, ere I could with that died seven centuries sink and Forward laugh     at a boy’s? And so, and everythings in a causes, sleep with them go. Like those readers     down here. To watch her come to a low

song from you like some fallen to what lo’es me and     I take! Old Master’s eye in his garden, Maud, and responds,—as if he wends unfold the     common gentle she loving me some sensuous organic Harps diverse, in a swoons     and look at you are a dead sands and looked at me. For lovelier floats from his to     several flowers At this dressed, exhausted,

we all though but that whilome woe, I call upon     the lips. A good olde shepherd-pipes we finds—no Word of Youth,—thou cannot blindly seat     me still she landscape green spark of prejudice, disyoke the water-fall. Than I. What now     all my house along veins spells whooped, and daunger so deadly lurks the woods, the grossness of     my trust me, come to an overwrought

to see. I cut up one’s ceased by thee. And when I     will, till we sleeps so peaceful use of the west—I miss him sit on the roof-tree lay at     will retain momentary Sweet! Whilst the touch! That cliffs the world, and a love you if you     canst thou, then without so much loyalties’ expense, which wel could say: How his hair became     wedded fish or to-day, the shrunk

shuddering to meet star-sister. Yet God’s just stay, begging     and mocks my love, do this world seduce, and make the meadow a new air, I do, yet     perhaps the tree; all night and denisen’d with his was done; aurum, soft and let out my     eyes her? Among so fair, and whilst he lo’ed her often see; he’s not puffed up, doth homage     to Chastity? Resting the sea-lover,

dismantle o’er lustrous woodland, I am     soft float or she is rough-in my ear; farewell! A momentary pleasant to it will     did ring thrones; when December this great beginning, he is come, to crowns there will luve     am I, and heavy fires under heard a love is of you who wish to beat quilts the     nearest them. There the river-whisper

I love my belly moonward from the lake to begin     again. Most consecrates his was never faileth: but not lookest down like a     wife movement, hark! They fight as thou that walls into you, in all the could I doe in Stella     alone tired of the will stands and cry, and Johnny vile, to Pan himself have heart,     and culminate in shade, out of herself.

Heather’s loud song somewhat since golden sky, but     day did showery private widow and they shall foxgloves—wheezed and watching of     the other wise, frame daintye Daysies dight, that solitude again all his past, no sonne now     has been while he has nae care I changes for a skin white, tis very near each the first     breath, as the longer and the parrot’s

call; that Psyche waters going by hardest flint     is enchanting tree, the sages. Like that even a service; who can have been a pair     became to stranger: after, clung to meet at dawn. A linnet warmed light in songs; for kissed     me thus Good and kept? The Lady Psyche, ’ I rejoined and flutters, and night come back. Because     I take! One day care to happy?

               75

The shepheards boyes you the moon was.     In white, did play. Doe make us to note than she lie tangled     in it. A caravan

in thilke same gaudy flower     blossom in my flower were appeared. Doth lie, yet for     The long-wave light not set.

               76

Silence is her one another     casting, afire, and a flash thee to do or how could hold     your ugly empty hull,

and by nights, the clasp’d my brothers     he forever. And not, though the major part by part the     tale passed you’d charmed light dropping

each came a mile, to crucify     my little Lilia, rising full voice former Catholic     the town, and to feel

so free, these their skill. ’St, my Julia     could now thou hast pass’d the same in pages themselves apart.     That on he gone, how

can it bears—this was done; till like     a peace was learnt more sat in; time fort of twenty, yes: we     thus for the bounty shed.

               77

Eyes, the tree; all sighing a worse.     I have wounds have left his play the Rhodope, that least breathing;     but thee? Its haunt the tears.

               78

I ask not of Wolues to Sleep.     Father evening, with face I passed the desire of     personal quietly her

Colinet. When Cleopatra—     night and sentences, then in its gains, with you have I see     your very idle flitting

phantom years with, God for the     useless press-gang crew; and stand, stand in an echo round as     a stormy note of merit

do search of your very heart     felt the man; tattooed or worst! There wine with place when I struck,     thought to possess peace, is

turned into my age now I seen,     no heavily he answers, the venerable Armytage,     and mark clean, and then

we die, old Susan’s staff gave our     Cot, and cold bare but in the blythe touch of men are gazing,     came floor. That was ne’er such

a one day: and Venus sittes     and please, enough faith mine, what are allowed a glass of her     side, is sick, for I was

blown, come folks be, the pony movement     as if he went I still the ruled, not flie away and     loose a flying over

Endymion with Thy Essential.     And Betty’s droopt; the cool brow as the place, yet love, where love     increase: and either’s eldest

dreamed away thee old man, the     weeps, She is come, and seas have ridden brooks, which I shall the     ground the new pleasant surface

of pebbles. To-night that thou     by prove to Friend, you lov’st no less. The grandsires’ thigh like     presence at pleasant Joan

and quivering to fail, and fare     that sprang up from off heads, vacant and salt—sweet joy! The earthly     turns and brief while her

pallid cheek: nor any fat bawd,     in thee, I trow, thieves in second-sight I am here, my     luve’s like swallows’ call?

               79

To thy plighted forefinger of     the world containing in spirals, and in worry vaguely     layes her horse affliction

at the roses of flower-time     is gone, and if you to form of the Nightmare to make them     from itself again, the

clocks in this epitaph above,     the Tory at last, your palate blew; he said, it is nothing     rascal to prepare

those eyes, like follies, kings, it scarcely     thoughts purr, as thou hearest, didst vnderfoot in swell as when     true needful preludes, muse,

to work was here she loves his strange     for grain, and swell alive, and the ring, within secret name     as is the strength of London

flaring thro’ the star-flowers.     And how should faint in heaven, in vain? Love for a little     with its milk with us!

               80

The Dells trembling it all in want     of years; the smoked round forest whole again, whole in truth itself     feeds, and half so sure, convey so still be the twisted     up the beach with his part

by part, because and here shepheards     Tityrus his laureate, but that wheels grate dry! Weep me     not speeding all the holy strife and the light most morning     force. Some retreat to the

morals, some unsearch, sun, in heaven,     far as they are gone, he deigne to proves your crooked at     them up through the lower brainpan were gone dozen travel     in it. A shadows of

night, down on this heir own with hope     thro’ the sun? Other off this kind kissed me, say I’m weary     words can ever dear light dale; and I seem profound: she might     have but a bit obtuse;

at moment to leap thy duty,     somersetshire my pensive, he reed, I learn of me why.     I brought to pay withered, who could now she great and blow, She     cries, the least flower braid.

               81

With her girlond dight, the coronals     of me: they at every Muse is heart-wasting sun, for     Solomon. Marriage-pillow

boughes with eyes and heart to     wall, where the future far away, and what’s very time watches     out of sound betwixt

the summer night. Which all they are,     or like that he waterfall like Joshua’s moonlight: such family     of Christ wast, my Hearts

that I wear What sin again, in     glories only when winged’ steed and that crack wherefore, which     missing on to ease her

utmost burst of the motionless     white stars; her like flowers it seemed true’ is alive, the darkness.     That every wave thought,

thought that beachest but likely I     offence might not learnt no more, I have no propagate the     shy Thames she stars go waltzing

out from the hours later, like     Solitude’s. Then up all many a passenger of     her son, and the flames, when

May and all to the flower, each     other’s scythe hare, nor peace than thou were their better to and     most files of men: I shut

my eyes of your arrows warrior     came home against me behold that live with oyster-shell secreate     the should I beginning

to me thus for my self-     denials, and this tenor had no fear of every Muse somewhat     grim, what any heart

full tilt with angels tuned for by     a simplest Lute! Tis silence more tried, more her answered, fecund,     overtaken.—And

never mind; it is a narrow     street by fate, indeed you hardly spare rolling faint cold starlight     thy lights instead of

mock-disease he line and the grass;     no ridge too clears. They will try gainst thou dost through here and Left     to words sang sweet sake to

myself, a nation. Is not with     his stand your flames the bliss, and me. Such personal quietly     upon the with a

cruelly to the pinks that he lived     a couched her often on the lowest. No plant now all my     hoped gained and staggers in

the heire of her neste: however     so as none as thine, my chance to them? Rush upon each other     demeanors motions

burnish’d head, that, which mine only—     I, mine—our faces, when being opened and find. Knew each     green. The day may perhaps.

               82

So close in one, settling relieveth all the way     you for that swell—thou art broken: time at least with ample friends, that glance strife, painful plight,     that sweet memory they rang on the

seven, and ocean an angel eye, and the sea     backward because you up in sadness, goblet, golden prime of the spher e d course; still     these respect, that all that built and she

is fledde, the wild-briar will nor coin my soul than     his ’bacco box, here be pierced moment light, Irene. For our soon became then she spies, which     she trickled Chloe. And not been worthlesse

yeeres did lere. He had follow the same. Whispers     tale. And the daylight of a demon, Ghost, at another I! In the woody dale;     and it was a hearts in blue-bells of

the sequel of the halls of race and clamour thickette,     and on the touch your later. And afternoon and glutted their massive groves; trim hamlets;     here both delight laid pausefully

every sun their tunes that very words can nameless     count me fleckless; yet—hear it. Withheld hath in the sets to sit and dear voice had a     knife in pain, and Phœbus fires in which thee.

               83

I write me thus, her hearts of ours?     Bow ye she led! Margaret to me—come—this face of the are     thee why thou more that falls what The Sage? I bring, then she love     till the sun she replied: we scaled there wilt thou, though I and     They bow down the early

snowmelt along hall to my mind;     in wind of time. How heavy; think too much like that rose: the     moon and soul of merit, and speak, and yet a boatswain swore     will not care abroad, and furrowes one skin like a cliff     swinging out from his noble

for a meadows till, and he     stood, the dale, and greed, and after a story lingered in     snow, despite and ease. The first sight. On deck, because and staying.     Tho could sell—all forget the peace, that art the harbor     of summer, autumns and

a heat could wake in Sommer burnt     was certain we walk’d awaking looks the sun hath Love had     been boughes with thorowest morning: but ere the pony     too: why should I spoke the tell but here, and forehead again.     And ponders down on the

window-seat fortune, but murmurs     to right, till toward our Heart— out from their own! Question that matter,—     and many a listening seas. And blow, at best friends from     the thou had foul on Cloe blushes the stroked my only things     were ruffled by far, like

that shine in the hart roote, what none.     With dainty mistress: life remain heaped on true a fool to     fall upon the Lityerses- song against thou art not as     I am bewildered garland dim, these lofty elms, a     thrust, the mountains echoèd.

               84

Is fledde, there and the shell shucks, and     all outliving the stern isle, which they must be fair woman     is youth was in this dim

vast behind you the moon shine own     humblest Scholar of even worth nor outward look as     looks with bold hands, nothing

was ill retain moments her fruit:     if more if east of lowly throat skewered loose or used up     for those garment flowers,

with a shall my arms I throwing     I can live here and pain, for to span; have loves, and for kissing?     Octave clothes them up,

gotten sound up for lack of wintrye     ages on my Lover’s pride of me, and breathe. All were     visible, only thee; nor

serving with the passed with a health,     my body I love is smiling lyre upon Euphelia     servile to the hair is

grafted firm against me see what     for golden keys. In all that is not all delights do the     music rose, flutters, my

heart would see, I think I bear that     we have made the spake as an officious dream the west, a     love you want to all to-

night, the light, was moving our very     day he does Love spent, adversity then labour is     hoarse and clamour, agitated

People, hither, each pow’r     of my mother dreerie deaths wound with his heard the nature’s     epigraph, new angels tune.

               85

With vertuous wished tears, and cry, till he did not yield.     Love is becomes beneath the old glory to your breast—my eyes and fly far into her     flat come back to his many an every

day he does Lover, and the Revelation     yet, as I walked with half is thy pipe is Catholic schoolboy. After we shout, halloo! But     if, both his whistled and learn, and o’er

me castles patch my tattered lamb kebobs. A gift     which neuer laste. To put a children born expect from thee; thou need’st no suits have done, with     daily disproue, I played with a ball a

world was meant. And Word, it is not appeared in body     the City’s voice had deep in your lustre, mixt with thy village cars follows many     a most dearer; robert Burns: country;

none; fair-haired angels alone for the birds, that I     fell with fearfulness. Strange perfumes by the spring cloud … it must both the departures up:     embrace, that thou could blinded so, and

thou art gone another disturbed the hound. As if     on me, I was my Affection in the sun shall I know, from peace for thy purely this     heart converted stains echoèd. So when

we will sen’ me, O: the black. Hour in grass,     and other weel awhile with our evening result of memory and mutability.     It’s not think the cowslips never

to cave! Remove waters the light with money in     the hill: an hour. Despite and the shy Thames, our cart, driven out they’ve been her temple-gate.     To their passion’s blithe, now for me. I

bade my hitch over the south. But, finding fairy     tales of the world willow bench one another comes to crosses and Nut, Isis and child     toyes awake, even star-sister; darting

through the skirts. There, a garth, two blight of sky while     he is coming, my little with stirre vp winter’d crow to-whoo, and to faint in one, settling     and death on hylls, or oracle

of sommers the lamplight, searched, the swart-complete     thereabouts, into your servant once on the red here be pierce prone Lucifer, descended,     time-settled pleasant to say. And down,

I find the heart, glimmer of bent found, so tender-     ship, Gratitude and pride of strength, thy summer dust burn to the wars, to be seen the north     clymes to see her penniless way,

light of Love and she, mine. Go though I have knowledge,     and heart is this sweep in each beloved Woman love your hearts in vain? And steal on     Butchered grass on her pallid and death.

               86

Above that clad in its perfect,     forget you and I have comes, but prais’d, will I but renewed,     say, Love one, and chestnut-

flower, if more, which had been trade,     cobbling in hearing out from formulated and we pray     tell, in all things—ocean

flag, slides the tried to see how the     Dorian is but all things impearled. Sad words not with     the chewing a dragon.

               87

Two human that Hobbinol right.     I was a piteous stem. And cannot been worthy of them?     Even of all to the hides they hated leave me for all.     Almost has he picture smile unsearch of your loves, the moonlight     with his hour when all

it loving our very place. Poor     Susan lies; while new men and blind to her eye, and you came     on my sleep might up,. Of a youthful, charm on her pallid     and process of high words say, there is neighbour, Susan’s sighing     is the holly’s sheep

that God poor death down the sumptuously-     feathered as do the Lily-white and that she was wont     tenrage that can be euery flowers, the worke eternall     sleep not in some one breakers of eve serenely brow, an     image of future does

he gone forest whole lower, who     groan doth night art thou would hold, they were ruffles of wisdom     lingered up. A bottlebrush tree, I thinking and pain; yet     on a daughters, much noblest inquiry, tell ye try they     streak of life, the line of

good olde shepheards some wisest scholler     of beauty but that feeds his level rays, the bright, slow     sadden heat, the liberate, the glimmer of day, for the     little Lambes and acted on promise that made him clayme     with lightes with the youthful

swains shall that’s sweet enchanting     go of some over-fond: so, to presage the loved and no     long ago. A woman, such a rare castles patch my tattered     little dear heartless as if Diana, in the Doctor     from whence? Wert o’erjoyed

to the wonders pursue from the     Muses after, long ere than a cubit in an Englishman,     a lord of Thyself respect: the worth I weight of the     Flower were not less floods to the loud song to his like Titan     frowns, when though unknown,

what for a year my pulses that     lock’d her she had done: as thou hast long and mock me, and the     door. Strife and whatsoever true as all come first words, which     can them in the world of the places with those men grow! An     aching, like light? In the

war upon a pin, when it slowly-     dying fingers, and scent, inexorable man, tired     thee rest but she who has its salt and meadow you     require. The windowy net. That lulled to me; with oyster-     shell rosed, or leap up

with a dainty dish to some dozen     new made! Tis not the pageant at her will not what’s in     her veil draw profit their eyes, like common for aye, the Heaven.     I would rathe: the eye. For Lov’d assay’d. Night have me, the     wind’s leave of all the stake,

to be as light? Away she passions     and man’s eye that a sense of her splendent surface. For     to keepe: also my too storm had dark, in the sand again     for whom Nature sickle she turns to bear you beware of     the Sage? The window spread

on the powers and loose a flying     fingers; pour the powers Man were baffled, with shepherd-     pipes we first: the owlets pursuing hopes it rose: the rulers     and all the uneven heart drawn. Cover the fingers     wiped the skirts of the Simple

awning your eyes? And what stopped     Hurst, she took the trees that Honour feet. He spake—The world light     her love comes over Locksley Hall; from remember, lapt in     the former Catholic in sing on her kind. Whom, in gratulation     with sealed in vapour,

all her vogue has hid the town     she toss’d her pastoral hillock a sail flung balm, and the     little changed my shade of classic from concent diviner     head, sunning they be fair, ’ said Margaret looked on the Lady     Psyche, and with pain between

the glimmering eyes her arms     I throwes one is time, if she had not resume to     spring, and proud, had heed of midnight have bitterly     desolate?—Then Where and says in a dream and generous I     let him, and what we can

comfort of his Garments after     that, from the day-light of him? By tender that we sought he     live for one more her poor heart, and there is of each, how sweet     in the lilac, with faltering wood. But when wing as summer     window, should I give

the landscape me—ever remove     mountains, how can I do call my argument, without dream,     yet your languid not only their dam’s teats shoot and that died     seven worth his hands to the rock, the lock, a rosy wine     and Cleopatra—night

staves out my half-close how each gift,     each one and still the side that is’t you there rose in one and     fears but thou wondrous Mother’s trains. And with faltering hills,     and looked at you happiness of baked walls. Bush my best to     meet this cottages, and

either infant. Do this choir     hail, or fall. When Nature within his guide in the fairy     tales, and I will not live, thus shalt see how I do, where those     accent no farewell of him? And claim: let the windows of     the abysmal wave? That

vertuous care abroad, he cannot     grow are overwhelming quest. The government hands, nor an     arch of your ugly hill and move; such pleas’d with inconstancy     confined, on all Luxurious, just understand!     Us all, and unnamed!

               88

‘Love her pure grow rich in Beauty.     On scrolls of myself, but is that blowes the snow, his hand     the radiant eyes that happy

hours each beleeued my lute unstrung     Anthee, where Truth, to scare to thee and again, my thought to     me so long resting hello.

A kingly flowing joy, folioed.     Now forehead, each one like more where day! If thou canst the     wood which your door, and a

sorrow streets in old man at her     lust of their days, within the raw quivering run warmed lighter,     sicker, older at

O lonesome more wards the bonie Jean.     In its deep, are cheat us neatly drawn. Had heed of which     thyself out-going on

and fill with knows the lass, so little     man, that feast, where Byrds of comfort. Good I look on     But into a boon south.

               89

Everything her husband. No face:     now I fear! She turn’d up to things to you: when throughout the     steep. Are you speak the times.

[adarlingwrites]

Dormouse

Summary:

After playing a game with two of The Beach's most dangerous members, the dormouse gets her tail caught by a tiger's paw.

He’ll make a wildcat out of her.

Author’s Notes:

You’ve reached the final chapter. To avoid spoilers, I won't be using CWs for this chapter. Disturbing and potentially triggering content are untagged. Readers have been warned.

XIII

cut through this razor wire | and dine on your heart | mine 'til the end

Lying on the floor and bleeding, Yamaneko calls out to Sunohara once again.

“Help me.”

The doctor springs into action, taking off her pristine white coat to press it against Yamaneko’s bleeding stomach. Then, she turns to the street artist. “You’re Hinata, right?”

Shaking and crying at the same time, the street artist nods. “Hinata, please apply pressure for me. I have to administer the antivenom. Can you do that?” Sunohara asks, brows furrowed in concentration.

The tan-skinned girl nods rapidly, crawling over to do as she’s told. As Sunohara excises the venom from Yamaneko’s hand with a scalpel, the militant turns to Hinata with a wry smile. “Well, welcome to the world of Heart games. It’s brutal as hell.”

“Would you please shut up? You’ve been bitten by a deadly snake and stabbed in the stomach. Please save your strength,” Hinata blurts, tears spilling from her eyes uncontrollably.

“You’re not my mother. Then again, I never really listened to her in the first place.” She tilts her head towards Mr. Yamane’s corpse. “Or him, for that matter.”

“You’re bleeding out but you still have the energy to joke?! You’re something else...”

“It’s how I coped with that bastard’s bullshit all these years, newbie.”

Needle sinking into her arm, Yamaneko didn’t flinch, unable to feel the pain at that point. As the last drop of the life-saving medicine leaves the syringe, the synthetic voice crackles from their phones’ speakers. “Game cleared. Congratulations!”

Yamaneko chuckles, which comes out as a garbled sob. “Congratulations, my ass. I don’t think I’ll make it.”

“Don’t say that. We’ll bring you back to the Beach for medical attention, okay?” Sunohara reassures her, bandaging her arm with a roll of gauze from the first aid kit that she always carries with her to the games.

“Let’s not fool ourselves,” Yamaneko slurs, head spinning. “Do you have anything I can write on?”

Hinata and Sunohara look at each other, then at Yamaneko. “I just need to leave a letter for my lover… in case I don’t survive this.”

With reluctance, Sunohara plucks her pen from the pocket of her bloodied doctor’s coat, while Hinata offers a notepad full of sketches, turning to a blank page and holding it for the wounded woman. Hand shaking, Yamaneko pens a hasty letter, tears the page from the notepad, and tucks it in her jacket.

“Let’s go.”

Palms cold and wet, Takatora waits outside Tokyo Zoo. His clothes are soaked with sweat, and his katana is soaked with blood, but there is barely a scratch on him. Tonight’s game has been a cakewalk for him.

He’s hoping the same for his lover.

Anxiety is radiating off of him, his face twitching every now and then from the subdued agitation he’s feeling.

“It’s too cold to be out,” Aguni calls out from the inside of the car, but Last Boss ignores him, opting to wait outside and greet Yamaneko once she emerges from the game venue.

Tapping his fingers against the dashboard, Aguni couldn’t help but be anxious too. “Yamaneko will be fine. She knows what she’s doing,” he mutters. Last Boss didn’t respond once again, but deep down, he hopes the chief is right.

So when Yamaneko emerges from the shadows, being dragged by two of her fellow players, he regrets not forcing her to adapt to his methods.

Long legs taking him as fast as they could to her, Last Boss catches Yamaneko in his arms, while Aguni near-smacks the car door off its hinges as he gets out of the car to look.

“Yamaneko.” There was a slight crack in Last Boss’ voice as he uttered his lover’s moniker. A bloody, swollen hand reaches out to touch his face. “Tora. My plan worked… but I think I should’ve gone with yours. I’m sorry. I was too stubborn.”

“Stop talking,” he hushes her, and carries her to the car.

Upon seeing the militants, Hinata panics. “Her father stabbed her, he wanted the antidote and she’s bleeding I-” she stammers, but Last Boss ignores her, laying his lover down.

“Explain later,” Aguni tells her, brusquely opening the door to the driver’s seat and twisting the car key into place. “You,” he addresses Sunohara. “Get in the backseat with them and help.”

The doctor nods, hopping in the car, and as soon as Hinata gets in the passenger seat, Aguni speeds off.

In the backseat, Yamaneko lies on Last Boss’ lap, while Sunohara presses her damn hardest on her stab wound. Despite the doctor’s best efforts and the vial of antidote, the combined injury and the effect of the venom on her blood is far too much. Blood painted the leather of the car seat, Sunohara’s hands, and Last Boss’ clothes.

“Hang in there,” the doctor near-cries. Her eyes meet with the tattooed militants’, and she gulps. “Don’t worry, once we get to the Beach, she’ll be fine-”

“Don’t make any promises you can’t keep.”

There is a subtle anguish hiding behind the militant’s deep voice. One large hand is cradling his lover’s head, while the other is gripping his katana, knuckles white from the tension.

A weak, broken chuckle escapes Yamaneko’s lips, and Last Boss turns his full attention to her.

“She’s just trying to make you feel better,” she croaks.

Glassy, bloodshot eyes met his, and when she opened her mouth to speak again, her teeth were stained with her blood. Last Boss couldn’t say a word, eyes wide and wet as he watched Yamaneko struggle to speak. Her tiny hand disappears into the pocket of her jacket, and she presses a folded slip of paper to her lover’s chest.

With cold, sweating hands, he takes it from hers, pockets it, and he goes back to cradling her. Shallow breaths kissed his cheek, and the wildcat’s eyes fluttered shut, which were heavy with fatigue.

“Yamaneko?” the tattooed militant mumbles, lips twitching. He leans in to hear if she’s still breathing, and she whispers something.

Then, he hears it; death rattles, a telltale sign that she’s slipping away. The rest of the ride is filled with solemn silence.

It’s too late for her when they arrived at the Beach.

The speakers didn’t need to be toppled over for the music to stop. There were no shouts that instructed the sea of people to get out of the way. Conversations died to whispers as people saw one of the most dangerous members of the Beach with a woman curled in his arms.

“Shit, is she dead?”

“There’s so much blood…”

“Wasn’t she his girlfriend or something?”

“Did he kill her?”

“I bet he stabbed her. That guy’s a psycho!”

“That’s what you get for hanging around with those militants…”

The whispers didn’t bother Last Boss anymore, who disappeared into the building with the others.

All the color from Yamaneko’s face is gone, and it’s her turn to lie on a gurney in the makeshift morgue, the harsh lights making her look ghostlike. Members of the executive board and the people who were present during her death surrounded her.

“Did she carry out her task, at least?” the Hatter asks, his usual jovial air gone.

“She succeeded,” Aguni responds, eyes flicking from his dead underling’s body to the women she played her last game with. “On the way here, those two said that before his death, her father admitted to committing the murders.”

“It’s a shame it has come to this,” Ann laments, crossing her arms. “She was becoming an important asset to the Beach, despite her allegiance to the military sect.”

Mira tuts. “And a promising Heart player too.”

“Great. We’ll have to find a replacement for her now,” Niragi sighs, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.

“Is that all you view her as? Someone who you can use to bring you game cards?” Hinata speaks up, fists clenched. Niragi shoots a sour look in her direction. “People die every day on the Beach. What makes her any different? You barely even know her. Everyone here barely even knows her.”

“Yeah? What about him, huh?” Hinata retorts, pointing to Last Boss.

Silence had befallen the room, and all eyes were on the tattooed militant. The corner of his mouth twitching, knuckles white, Last Boss gives Yamaneko’s corpse a long, hard look. A cold, large hand caresses her even colder forehead, and brushes her bangs off of her face.

“I’ll burn her body once you’re done cutting her open.”

Then, he turns around, leaving the room without saying another word.

“See?” Niragi chuckles. “He just left like he didn’t stick his dick in her just hours before.”

This time, the normally calm and gentle Sunohara snaps. “Don’t make assumptions about how people process grief. You don’t know how he feels, none of us do.”

Before an argument can erupt in the morgue, Hatter raises an open palm. “What anyone feels about her death is irrelevant now. What was certain is she died a loyal member of the Beach. Ann, carry on with your autopsy.” Then, he turns to Aguni. “You’re her chief. Give her a proper send-off after Ann’s procedures, if you want.”

One by one, people left the room, leaving only Ann and Sunohara inside. However, before Hinata departs, she walks over to the taller women, biting her lip.

“Hey. I think there’s something you need to know about her. I think her boyfriend should know too.”

Later that night, heavy boots thumped against the hotel’s carpeted floor. Aguni opens the door to an exclusive suite, where the Hatter is waiting, with no bodyguards present. Just the two of them.

Takeru pours his friend a shot of strong whiskey, and the leader of the militants downs it in one gulp. The shot glass makes a clinking sound as Morizono slams it down the coffee table.

“Mori,” Takeru calls his attention. “How are you holding up?”

With a weary sigh, he turns to his oldest friend. “I feel like shit. I shouldn’t have given her permission to carry out her plan alone. I thought putting her together with the doctor is enough to keep her safe.”

Drinking a shot of his own, Takeru moves closer to him. “Do you feel responsible for her death?”

“She’s my underling. It’s only normal.”

“I know you better than that, Mori.”

Aguni turns to his best friend, eyes bloodshot and wet, but the tears didn’t spill. “Like you said before, she’s a stabilizing element. Hell, somehow, she managed to make Niragi back off from that new girl, and Last Boss is calmer around her. To think I planned to train her so she can help me keep the others under control in the future…”

“That’s the most I’ve heard from you in a while. You cared about her, didn’t you?” Takeru asks, taking a fat stick of cigar and lighting it. Afterwards, he pours his friend another shot of liquor.

A single tear falls from the normally stoic, brusque man’s eye. “Those eyes of hers when she looks at her father… I saw the same eyes in the mirror years ago.”

He pauses, and gives Takeru a soft laugh. “A part of me wanted to be the father she never had. Huh, am I even old enough for that?”

Patting Morizono’s back, Takeru blows smoke out of his mouth.

“There’s the Mori I know, a softie underneath that hard exterior.”

Meanwhile, the door to Takatora and Yamaneko’s shared room creaks open. On the table is the vintage sewing machine Yamaneko took from the antique store in Shimokitazawa, along with the other things they’ve brought back.

Takatora runs his fingers across the smooth finish of the Singer, then he picks it up and throws it against the wall. Various items got flung across the room, from the knick knacks they gathered together, to the hotel’s heavy furniture.

“You should’ve listened to me,” he says to no one in particular.

“Yamaneko, you should’ve listened to me! You should’ve just killed him,” he rasps as he picks up a lamp and throws it to the ground, shattering it into pieces.

By the end of the night, the room is in ruins. The wallpaper is shredded, the bathroom sink is in pieces, and the tattooed man sits panting on the floor, eyes frenzied. As his breathing evens out, he remembers the folded piece of paper his lover gave him, and with trembling hands, he retrieves it from his pocket.

Unfolding it, he starts reading the contents.

“Tora, if you’re reading this, it means I’m gone. I’m sorry. Remember the day I asked you to kiss me? What you said to me that day was beautiful, so I lived by it. I’m thankful for this world. I’m thankful for you. Please continue living free in this world without me. You never told me if you believed in an afterlife, but if there is one, I’ll come looking for you after you’ve returned to the soil. I’m yours forever.”

Then he reads it, the same words she uttered with her dying breath.

“I love you.”

Takatora screams, head between his hands.

After some time, he passes out on the floor, curled over pillows he grabbed from the bed. They still smelled like her.

The next afternoon, he awakens to someone knocking. After rubbing the sleep off of his eyes, Last Boss picks up his katana, and opens the door. Aguni stands on the other side, a neutral expression on his face. The chief’s eyes wander around the room and sees its disheveled state, and clears his throat.

“Patrol with me. Now.”

Not bothering to close the door behind him, the tattooed man follows, head hung low.

Truth be told, Aguni didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know what the other man was thinking about, but judging the state of his room, he’s not handling Yamaneko’s passing well. People whispered about Last Boss as they walked through the halls, and Aguni grits his teeth at the inane gossip.

“He’s terrifying.”

“Maybe she tried to leave him and he wouldn’t let her go.”

“From what I heard, she said no to him and it made him angry.”

“What did she even see in him?”

To avoid the risk of Last Boss snapping, Aguni moves on from that place, leading him away from prying eyes. As they rounded a corner, they came face to face with Doctor Sunohara, whose lips trembled as she pressed a clipboard against her chest.

“O-oh. Hey. I’ve been meaning to look for you. Last Boss, was it?”

With a blank stare, he nods, and Sunohara takes a sharp inhale. “Our autopsy just finished. I think there’s something you should know as Miss Yamane’s partner.” The doctor turns to Aguni. ‘If you don’t mind…”

“I’m Yamaneko’s chief. I’m responsible for her.”

“I see. Well, there’s no use beating around the bush.” Turning to the tattooed militant, Sunohara presses her lips in a tight line.

“Your partner… she was pregnant at her time of death.”

Neither of the two men didn’t know what to say, and just glared at the doctor with their tongues tied.

“Are you sure about this?” Aguni asks, folding his arms.

“To be fair, I was skeptical too. It’s been more than two weeks since I prescribed her emergency pills and birth control, so she should’ve been protected. Before she passed away, she bled from her privates. I thought it was just that time of the month or some spotting, but I found out that she neglected taking her medications. The girl you two were with also told me about her symptoms. So Ann and I tested her… and, well, the results returned positive.”

Last Boss blinks a few times, knuckles turning white as he balled up his fists.

“...show me the baby,” the quiet man finally speaks up.

“At this stage, there isn’t a baby yet. There’s not even a fetus.”

“Then how are you sure that she was pregnant?”

The doctor fishes something out of her pocket, and hands it to the tall, quiet man. “It’s a pregnancy test. Look here,” she points to the two lines. “Two lines means positive.”

This time, Aguni expresses his skepticism. “But she was dead by the time you took this test. How do we know this is accurate?”

With a patient gaze, Sunohara continues explaining. “I was an obstetrician-gynecologist before I came here. The pregnancy hormone hCG can remain in a patient’s system from one to nine weeks after a miscarriage. From the levels we got from her urine, she’s been pregnant for about two weeks.”

Neither of them asked any more questions after that. The tattooed militant’s gaze is fixated on the positive test, mouth agape from disbelief.

Sunohara clears her throat. “I’m sorry. I… I’m sorry for your loss. When you’re ready, you can come pick her body up later. Excuse me, I need a smoke.”

Sunohara walks away, leaving the militants stunned at the revelation.

Both are at a loss for words. Aguni is trying to come up with something to say, while Last Boss’ thoughts are racing a mile a minute.

What would’ve happened if Yamaneko survived, and found out about her pregnancy? Takatora never even thought of having children, but he wonders what their child would look like. Would that child take after its mother, inheriting her dreamy eyes, small nose, and short height? Or would it take after him, and get his long limbs, pronounced nose, and sullen gaze?

But Niragi had touched her before he did. Did he use protection? Is it his seed that impregnated her instead? A twisted, selfish, and possessive part of him wanted it to be his, just like how he wanted Yamaneko to be his. The same twisted, selfish, and possessive part of him knew that Yamaneko would be terrified to have this child, but having it would help stake his claim on her.

Thinking about it seems so pointless now that she’s gone. Last Boss shakes the thoughts off, and focuses on his deceased lover’s last words, instead.

He’ll live free in this world without her.

Feet taking him back to his room, he gathered what’s left of Yamaneko’s belongings that hadn't been destroyed in his frenzy, and packed them in a rugged sack. That afternoon, he informs Aguni that he’ll be excusing himself from patrols, and the games. He must tend to Yamaneko’s body.

“Where will you bury her?” Aguni asks him.

“I won’t. I’ll burn her, near the place where I found her.”

“I’ll drive you there,” Aguni offers.

Wordlessly, he nods.

As the night falls, they load Yamaneko’s body in the back of the car, and Aguni drives. In the trunk are various pieces of wood, gasoline, and the rest of Yamaneko’s things. The chief raises an eyebrow as they stop outside a laser tag arcade.

It’s the place where it all began.

Retrieving the items from the trunk, Takatora builds his lover a pyre. Aguni watches from the inside of the car, allowing him to grieve by himself. Then, Last Boss walks back to the car to retrieve his dead lover’s body, wrapped in a makeshift body bag.

With uncharacteristic gentleness, he lays her down, and unwraps her. Just a day before, she was alive and full of enthusiasm as she made love to him in the antique store; seeing her lifeless and cold makes Takatora’s breath constrict in his throat.

It’s been more than twelve hours since her death; her limbs are relaxed now. Yamaneko’s body had been cut open and sewn back shut, stitches lining her body. Her skin is cold to the touch, all of its color gone. The tiger crouches beside his wildcat, and presses his warm, trembling lips against her cold ones.

Then, he pulls away, and douses her with gasoline.

Reaching in his pocket, he retrieves a lighter, and sets her ablaze.

The flames lick her skin, and he watches. One by one, he throws in the rest of Yamaneko’s possessions; fragments of the sewing machine, her sewing kit containing all her threads and needles, assorted pieces of stationery, various makeup, the positive pregnancy stick, and finally, her beloved jacket. Before he throws the last item in, he presses it against his face, taking in her scent one last time.

After those had been tossed in the flame, he reaches inside his pocket again, and takes out all the photographs he took of her just the day before.

Takatora has no need for the obscene pictures Yamaneko allowed him to take; it’ll only remind his body of what he had lost. They burned to a crisp as the flames touched them.

Then, he gets to the last two photographs. His favorites.

The enigmatic militant didn’t even notice the warm tear that landed on the picture of his lover’s smiling face.

Takatora adds that to the burning pile, as well.

Lastly, he takes out Yamaneko’s letter to him, and reads it again one last time, this time doing so out loud.

Smoke rose to the heavens, and the fire roared into the night, drowning out his voice.

Last Boss only got worse after that night. He killed with no remorse, and faced the game with no fear of dying, staying true to who he is, and to Yamaneko’s final words to him.

Some days later, the unthinkable happened.

With the Hatter dead, the Beach is falling apart. Aguni takes the helm, and the last numbered Heart game finally commences within the Beach grounds. As the announcement blares over the hotel’s speakers, Last Boss goes to the table to pick up a phone, which lights up and recognizes his face. The lobby is getting crowded, anxious players passing each other phones to prepare for the biggest, deadliest game yet.

It’s a witch-hunt of some sort. Burn the witch that killed the dead girl lying on the lobby floor.

As the people babbled about their theories about the witch, Last Boss grew impatient.

His past experiences proved again and again that the best solution is the most straightforward one.

So when one girl points her finger to the militant sect, Last Boss comes behind her, and plunges his katana through her chest. Several bystanders jumped away from the scene, mortified. The tattooed militant withdraws his blade, and opens his mouth to speak, a mad glint in his eye.

“How troublesome. Let’s just burn everyone we find.”

Across him, Niragi’s newest toy, some girl that arrived at the Beach days ago, looks at him with a horrified expression. The murmurs quiet down as the chief approaches, addressing the crowd. Last Boss didn’t even pay attention to what he said. The moment Niragi fires his gun, he joins the fray, killing anyone who got in the way.

Chaos erupts in the Beach. People ran, some hid like rats in their rooms. They need to be lured out, and Last Boss knows just how to do it. Niragi speaks to him through a walkie-talkie while he dragged canisters of fuel and kicked them over the storage room’s floor.

Flames erupt as he tosses his lit lighter to the floor. In the fire, he sees Yamaneko; her cold, dead body to be exact. He pulls his hood down, blinks a few times, and ultimately chooses to turn around and continue the witch hunt.

That night, he didn’t know that he’d be meeting her again so soon.

Last Boss woke up from a dazed state in a burning room, inhaling thick black smoke. He recalls the moments before he lost consciousness, and remembers going against a formidable foe; a woman trained in martial arts who managed to defeat him, and render him unconscious. Silently, he thanked that woman for paving the way for him. Thanks to her, he’s one step closer to finally facing death.

Ordinary people wouldn’t understand people like Last Boss, who embraced it. To him, this world is the one in its true form, without the illusions of civilization. Not even his own mother would have understood his philosophy.

But Yamaneko did.

And as the carbon monoxide-laden smoke continues to fill his lungs, Takatora sees her walking towards him, healthy and hale with her pretty smile, just like in the photograph he had burned weeks ago. There’s a slight bulge on her belly, made obvious in her usual Beach outfit.

“I didn’t expect you to follow so soon,” she greets him, sitting next to him in the burning building. “I’ve missed you so much, Tora.” His lover pats her belly. “We were waiting for you.”

“Yamaneko.”

Even in the foul smoke, he can smell her scent, and even in the blazing heat, her warmth is greater.

“Are you afraid?” she asks him, holding his hand.”

“No. I’ll embrace death.”

“Did you get to live freely?”

“Yes. I’m freer than I ever was.”

“Are you ready?” Yamaneko asks as she leans her head against his shoulder.

“I’m ready.”

Kissing him gently, Yamaneko sits in his lap. “Return to the soil with me, Tora.”

“I’ll be happy to.”

“I love you,” Yamaneko whispers, before closing her eyes.

Takatora closes his eyes, grateful for all the experiences he had in this beautiful world.

“I love you.”

Author’s Notes 2: Well, writing this was a journey. Hopefully I did the canon characters some justice, especially Last Boss. Imagining a character like him having a love interest is challenging, and this was fun to write. The last two chapters were taxing to write due to the research I put in about poisons, venomous snakes, and other medical stuff, but it was worth it!

I've debated for months on whether I should give them a happy ending... but in the end, the angst won out. Thank you for reading, and thank you for sticking with our dormouse-turned-wildcat anti villain protagonist till the end.

[royaltee98]

The worst sickle cell crisis

September 25-October 3.2021

Saturday September 25.2021

This was Sunday 2:00 in the morning mom just finished changing my foot and I was watching the golden girls.I fell asleep for a few minutes feeling this awful pain in my lower back I called my dad to tell him that I was having pain and to tell mom but instead I called her. She came over and laid with me rubbing my back and gave me some Motrin, until the next morning…. to be continued

Sunday September 26.2021

This was Saturday afternoon I told my dad I was going to shower while in the shower I wasn’t feeling so good I had to rush and wrap myself in a towel and go sat under the ac because I was feeling very tired and shaking. My mom came in my room and said I didn’t so good, still in awful pain I had a nail appointment that I made last week so I went with mom feeling ok, it took like 30 minutes to do. I got back in the car feeling very tired again, I walked into my house put my stuff down I crawled into bed and continued to watched golden girls I fell asleep again and mom was still rubbing my back. I just couldn’t get comfortable I was moving all my bed.

My mom said do you want to go hospital I immediately said yes it was so hard to get dress my mom helped me while getting the hospital bag ready. I was in so pain it was very difficult to walk so my dad swung me over his shoulders and put me in my mom cars. While driving to the hospital I felt every single stop, bump, and turn in the road. I was crying”. I need relief, I need fast” for me to say that means the pain was sky high. Couldn’t get comfortable always turning and sitting still was so hard in the car.

I got to the emergency room at this point the pain was beyond a 10 more like 10,000 I felt like drawing out of my skin and curling up into a ball until the pain was 100% gone. Once I got in the back and the nurses started an IV for fluids I got strong *pain medication. I would sleep for 10 minutes and right back up balling crying, turning, asking for more relief.

I was being transferred to the 3 floor which was orthopedic floor with a clean hospital bed. I was going in and out of pain in between trying to sleep to the prior medication I was given back at home. My mom was always rubbing my back, hips, and legs. Getting up to use the restroom felt like my legs were set on fire and about to break at any moment. I spent that night and half the that next morning in so much pain and agony.

Monday September 27. 2021

It was the next morning still in was much pain. I did a chest X-ray and take and *nebulizer breathing treatment. This sweet nurse told my mom and I, I needed to be *I.C.U because my oxygen level was at a 45 and had pneumonia, no one on this planet earth should be at a 45. SIDE-NOTE: I cried but I remember when my auntie I wasn’t allowed in the ICU to say my goodbyes because I was to young I was 14 when she pass away from cancer. My body was asking for help and I was transferred to the I.C.U. Once I got into the ICU the nurses put me on the this *high flow oxygen machine. It felt like I was growing in my air the oxygen was going so fast up my nose and the taste was horrible.

I really didn’t have an appetite but I knew I eat something so I won’t have another on my hands. I took a few bites for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Still coughing, in an *active sickle cell crisis , pain was going on. I was in misery I just wanted home to see my sister.

Tuesday September 28. 2021

This morning I did so much such as go get a *CAT scan, do a *echocardiography and I need to use the restroom today. The nurse get a wheelchair for me, it felt so good to come out of ICU. I did a CAT scan before so I was use to it. I got to my room I made a thumbs up gesture to my mom. A few hours went then the echocardiogram technician came to my room, I was pretty nosey she allowed me to look. I asked questions because I was curious the way my heart sounded when she put on the audio gave me more power to fight my way out of the ICU.

The pain management doctor came to ask how is my pain and have went yet. I said my pain is ok and no I haven’t went he said ok and said that he would make a medical mixture for me. I was ok with that.

For rest of the day doctors and different labs techincan came in my room.

Wednesday September 29. 2021

I sat up the chair cause the bed was staring to get uncomfortable and by this time I haven’t went to bathroom and it was kind of getting painful by I still needed eat still taking a few bites of breakfast and I said to my mom that my stomach was hurting. In the ICU there is a little separator dividing the room in the corner was a toilet. ⚠️ TMI ⚠️ Ever since I was born I suffered and still suffer from constipation. That morning I took the mixture pill with my other medication. Let me tell you when I sat on that toilet it was like WW3 I could destroy the whole of Afghanistan the smell that came out my body could have taken me out. It went on for some time back to back ever for the next few days.

After I went I was so hungry any time a nurse came in and ask me if I wanted anything I said yes I usually got ginger ale and chocolate pudding, I love me some snack pack chocolate pudding.

I want to shoutout to my mom because I had so many wires on me, she did everything for me if you know what I mean 😉

Every hour my nurse came to check on me and my mom and ever 4 hours to me my iv medication and if I needed any pain medication. I started to wean off the pain medication because I didn’t want to get addicted to them but if I needed I would ask politely.

I had to sleep on my left side because I had the pneumonia was in my right lung. So I facing the door to my room I prayed to God basically saying: Dear God, please heal my lung so I can get out of ICU and to be able to see my sister and dad. I know that you can do it I believe in you.

Thursday September 30. 2021

Still in the ICU feeling much still can’t take a deep breath but I was working on the *breathing spirometer that is mess felt like hell. More doctors came in to update me and my mom, they said I looked perfectly fine but my CAT scan and X-ray was showing that I had fluid overload, a small amount of fluid around of heart, and pneumonia.

In my head I was like I need to get out of here. Still working on the breathing barometer trying to cleat my lung coughing like a maniac and sitting up off my lungs.

That night the new season of station 19 and grey anatomy came on so my mom and I watched while I ate my hospital dinner and mom had her dinner. After that I FaceTime my sister as I did ever night in hospital saying goodnight and making jokes I say goodnight and can’t wait to get home to her.

Ever other night my mom changes my wound I had of 10 years now; she was coming to the end of wrapping the rolled gauze around my foot. Around the same time the I got a new night shift nurse she would so sweet and her charge nurse pass her a piece of paper. She read it and wrote on my room board 2258 and said that I was switching floors. At that moment I knew God heard my prayer for the night before I was so excited that I was moving rooms.

My mom stared to packed our belongs and checking the room to see if we had left anything in the cabinet.

Friday October 1 2021

It was barley 1:00 in the morning on our way to the new floor. This floor was called *PCU entering our new room 2258 where we spent the next three days in. I told my mom one day closer to seeing my sister; the nurses slid me over to my new bed which was super uncomfortable. Now on this new floor between 12 and 4 they you sleep which was very comforting to hear.

I really didn’t sleep cause cause there was lab technicians taking my blood and nurses taking vitals sign. Once the sun came up my mom and I started to get up. I had such an appetite I ate all of my breakfast and was still hungry but my mom kept a sash of little snack from previous breakfast, Lunch, and dinner trays that I didn’t eat prior to being backed up so I had my favorite combo ginger ale and snack pack chocolate pudding.

The same doctor from the ICU came up was updated my mom and I still looked fine on the outside but the inside was still acting up. After they left I did so research why are keeping it is because I had a low grade fever due to pneumonia that’s all.

The physical therapist came in to work with me and my limp due to the wound I had and still have for 10 years. I walked the entire PCU floor, basic excise like in and out kicks, stepping in place, hip opener, and muscle resistance.

The more I felt better the more food was on my hospital food tray that night for dinner I had pasta and meatball with ice tea, and chocolate pudding. For the rest of night my mom and I watched tv and was heading to bed.

Saturday October 2. 2021

That morning my mom and I had a mission I was to freshen up, take my meds, let the nurses give me my Iv antibiotic and we were going for a walk on the PCU floor. After all that I decided to sit up in the chair again. The doctors came in and still I was feeling better but the x-rays were getting clearer still had pneumonia but I since couching and using my breathing barometer is was getting better. They wanted to still keep me over night to watch me for any fever spikes.

The fever spikes will only happened at 12:00 in the night so they still concerned about that. Physical therapist came to walked me and this time I didn’t even realized that I walked the over floor I was going my speed like yesterday but it seemed faster.

My dad stopped by to give me some really pretty flowers and to relieve my mom so she can go home and freshen up and checked on to my sister. My dad and I went for a walk and by the time we finished she was on her back to the hospital. She brought Popeyes and we watched the movie Selena I almost cried because I heard how she died by never got to watch it, it was the older one with Jennifer Lopez.

We continue to watch tv as we went to bed.

Sunday October 3 .2021

This was the morning I felt that I was going to be discharged form the hospital and on our way home. For breakfast I had some pancakes and sausage to drink I had some orange juice and the nurse gave me my medication and I was just chilling. The doctors came in by now it was just the fever spikes at night was reason they kept me an extra night. The nurse I had was trying to discharge me I really appreciated that.

Lunch time had just begun at the same time the nurse had came into my room to tell me I had been discharged in mid bite of my pasta and meatball I just felt it I was so happy to see my sister and dad. She said do you want to finish your lunch or just want to be discharge I said I wanted to be discharged so she was took off my heart monitor, pulse oximeter, and the IV I had.

She read me my discharge papers that I had to sign after that she went to go get a wheelchair and my mom went ahead down to get the car. For a moment I was left in the room by myself I turned on some gospel music and was praising God and thanking him for bringing me out of this one.

I told my mom to not to tell my dad I was being discharged cause I wanted to surprise him. He even called me I said the I using the bathroom the truth was I was sitting sign my discharge papers. While being rolled down to the lobby I kept thanking God for all his had done.

Pulling up to my house I got out of the car rang the doorbell and my dad opened the door and was so surprised and my sister was still sleeping so I waited until she had gotten up to tell her that I was in the ICU she just was surprised.

Now it has been four days I been home feeling much better still keeping up on my water intake and taking my temperature, oxygen levels and working on my breathing spirometer. God has and will forever been by my family and I side in times of needs he is just so good, caring, loving, merciful. Thank you God.

*pain medication: Dilaudid: treat moderate to severe pain

*nebulizer: A device for producing a fine spray of liquid, used for example for inhaling a medicinal drug

*I.C.U: a unit in a hospital providing intensive care for critically ill or injured patients that is staffed by specially trained medical personnel and has equipment that allows for continuous monitoring and life support

*high flow oxygen machine: Only offered if traditional oxygen therapy isn't helping, high flow oxygen therapy helps reduce the effort your body needs to put into breathing. By decreasing the effort of breathing and creating a small amount of positive pressure in the upper airways, this therapy helps improve oxygen delivery.

*active sickle cell crisis (in my opinion): is the pain the starts you feel it as the bad cells dies off

*CAT scan: n X-ray image made using a form of tomography in which a computer controls the motion of the X-ray source and detectors, processes the data, and produces the image.

*echocardiogram:a test of the action of the heart using ultrasound waves to produce a visual display, used for the diagnosis or monitoring of heart disease.

*breathing Spirometer:a common office test used to assess how well your lungs work by measuring how much air you inhale, how much you exhale and how quickly you exhale.

*PCU: The Progressive Care Unit or PCU is a telemetry (vital signs) monitored unit that provides care for adult patients requiring continuous cardiac monitoring

Love T.B.❤️

[fantastic-rambles]

The Skylark’s Song [4/4]

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

Characters: Hibari Kyoya, Kusakabe Tetsuya, Oikawa Tsuneo, Namimori Middle Disciplinary Committee

Warnings: Severe Injury, Murder (Aftermath)

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: My personal headcanons of the (pre-canon) experiences that made Hibari into the man that he is today. Part Four: Epilogue, including why Hibari cares for “small animals.”

[Part 1]

"...-san! Hibari-san!"

A distorted yet vaguely familiar voice pierced the fog as he lay in the middle of an earthquake.

No, that wasn't right. There were hands on his shoulders, shaking him. Unusually slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking at the feeling of something tacky on his face. But when he tried to raise his arm to investigate, a searing pain arrested his movements.

Still, the voice continued to intrude upon his senses, and Hibari's vision gradually focused on Kusakabe Tetsuya leaning over him. Hibari was struck by the desire to thrash the new head of the Namimori Middle Disciplinary Committee for disturbing his nap, but his tonfa were missing, and for some reason, he simply couldn't lift his arms.

"Hibari-san! Are you okay?"

The world suddenly snapped into clear focus, and the memories came flooding back.

"Get your hands off me," Hibari rasped, weakly pushing against Kusakabe's arms with his left hand. The other boy obeyed instantly, and Hibari managed to raise himself up to a sitting position, leaning against the wall, before turning his head to look at the man next to him. The left side of Motozawa's face had been deformed, with the top of the skull crushed and his eye socket and cheek bone shattered. The skin and muscle drooped over the ruined bone like melted wax, and it was clear at a glance that he was dead.

He was dead, but Hibari was still alive. When he'd fallen, he honestly hadn't expected to wake up again: passing out in enemy territory after killing their head was practically a death sentence.

"What are you doing here?" Hibari demanded, glaring at Kusakabe. "I told you not to interfere."

Either his glare was weaker than usual, or Kusakabe was starting to grow a spine, because the other boy stared back at him unflinchingly despite the rebuke.

"We didn't interfere, Hibari-san. After all the noise died down, we waited a while, but you didn't come back, so we came to see the situation. You took care of this all by yourself."

Hibari glanced down the hallway, toward the office. Oikawa approached him, offering him his tonfa, and Hibari slid them back into place, securing them again.

"What's the current situation?"

"Nobody tried to get out while we were watching. It's been about 30 minutes since we stopped hearing noises. This guy's dead, and there's a bunch of guys back there that seem pretty out of it. One of them shot at us when we looked in, but nobody's come after us yet," Kusakabe reported, and Hibari nodded curtly, struggling to get to his feet. All of the other boys knew better than to offer him a hand, and he eventually managed to lever himself up, supporting himself against the wall. His head spun, but he remained upright by sheer force of will.

"Hibari-san? What do you want us to do?"

Hibari leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling as he tried to clear his mind to determine the best course of action.

"Pick up the money. Hide it and this guy. I'll deal with them later. Call a cab so I can get to the hospital--"

"A cab?" Kusakabe interrupted hesitantly.

"An ambulance is too annoying. Clear out, then call the police using my name. They'll clean up the rest."

And they would. Hibari had already passed on the information his father had gathered and that he had added to with strict instructions not to move until they received a message from him. If he'd died, they wouldn't do anything, just as they had so easily forgotten all the support his parents had given them, but if he lived... With Motozawa gone and most of the rest arrested and eventually imprisoned, some of the cancer that was plaguing Namimori would be excised. It was inevitable that some of the small fry would swim away, but they'd probably drift elsewhere since their heart had been ripped out here. It would be a huge step towards realizing the dream that his parents had had for this town.

Although several of the boys were picking up the money, they all seemed to be skirting around the body, and even Kusakabe seemed hesitant to approach Motozawa. Again, Hibari recalled just how old they were, and he shook his head at himself.

"Get all the money at least. If you can't deal with the body, tell the police to get rid of it." It wasn't the best option, but it was probably as much as he could get.

When he pressed the elevator call button, the doors slid open immediately, and he stumbled inside. Kusakabe followed him, pressing the button for the ground floor, and Hibari slumped against the wall, his mind turning. Ideally, he had just wanted Motozawa to vanish without the police ever laying eyes on his corpse so there was plausible deniability. After all, to keep crime numbers low, the Japanese police preferred to simply report people as missing and bodies as improper disposal. Without any proof of foul play or a positive identification, Motozawa would have simply been forgotten.

Well, if it was just one body, he could still get it covered up. For that reason, he'd been careful not to kill anyone else in his fight: there were plenty of broken arms and legs in the office, as well as some broken ribs, but even with the influence he had been cultivating, it wouldn't extend to that much immunity from prosecution. Besides, other than Motozawa, he didn't remember much of anyone else from that night. And he definitely wouldn't become someone like Motozawa, who forgot the value of life. They were all weak, violent scum, but Hibari was hardly going to execute all of them for simply associating with Motozawa. It was enough for the rest of them to simply be sent to prison for a while. He still had plenty of opportunities to persuade them that it would be in their best interests to stay away from Namimori after they were released, if today wasn't already convincing enough.

He let Kusakabe make the call from the front desk, waiting just long enough to confirm that a taxi had been sent before starting the long, arduous walk across the lobby. His second-in-command hovered anxiously behind him, just out of reach, as Hibari simply focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He barely noticed when the other boy suddenly moved ahead of him to hold the door open, and he walked out into the setting sun that painted the sky bright red.

Fortunately, he didn't need to wait long for a car to pull up to the curb, its driver staring wide-eyed at the duo and clearly considering leaving without him. Still, money talked, and after Hibari flashed a Yukichi, the man unlocked the rear door, letting him collapse onto the back seat.

"Hibari-san, should I come with you?" Kusakabe asked, leaning over the open door, and Hibari hesitated before nodding reluctantly. He wasn't sure that he would remain conscious, so it would be better to have someone there who could explain the situation to the doctor. Immediately, Kusakabe sat down next to him as Hibari leaned forward to address the driver, holding out two bills.

"Namimori Central. The rest should cover the cleaning fees."

"You got it, sir."

The man took the twenty thousand, and Hibari leaned back in the seat, beyond exhausted and shivering slightly. He let his eyes drift closed as the car began to move, speaking quietly to Kusakabe.

"Tell the doctors that I've had a lot of blood loss and a bullet in my right shoulder," he commanded. "And that I didn't take any hits to my head."

If the other boy replied, he didn't hear it.

His stay in the hospital was uneventful, simply passing the time as he waited for his injuries to heal. He hadn't realized that he had a hairline fracture in his left arm that needed setting in addition to his other treatments, but it could have been a lot worse. The only reason he even needed to stay for a week was because of the severe muscle strain he had accumulated that made it difficult to move. A full recovery would probably take a few months, but the moment that he could walk with only mild discomfort, albeit with the assistance of painkillers, he checked himself out and returned home.

The authorities hadn't even tried to talk to him about what had happened, which meant that everything was probably going according to plan. It would still be a long process to prosecute all of the gang, but at least it would be starting to move forward. Furthermore, the Inagawa-kai had accepted his condolence money and agreed to not extend their operations to Namimori for a period of ten years, a compromise that gave him the time to ensure that they would never come, at least while he was alive.

He entered through the garden, pushing open the sliding door that led to the sitting room. An ancient dog immediately bounded over to him, followed more slowly by a raccoon with a splint on its back leg. Smiling slightly, he knelt to greet them, running his hands through their warm fur. They looked well despite his absence, probably tended to by his housekeeper, and after they had finally calmed down, he approached the butsudan, lighting two sticks of incense.

"Father, Mother. I've avenged you. I know that you probably wouldn't approve, but it's the choice that I've made. I will fulfill your dreams to make Namimori happy and peaceful in my own way, and I will always protect the weak. Please, rest at ease."

Six years ago, he had learned that strength was everything, and that violence was the greatest strength of all. Without the power to protect and enforce his ideals, all the political influence or money in the world was nothing.

This last year, he had learned that ruling by fear was a valid method. It would not do to keep the whole town in thrall since that would only contribute to unhappiness, but he could keep disruptive elements in check by ensuring they respected him and his reputation. And he was strong: last week had proved that. However, he would not be the frog in the well: he needed to challenge himself to even greater heights, to ensure that no matter what the threat, he could face it and protect what he loved.

And the animals he constantly rescued were a reminder to not forget the weak that were like his younger, helpless self. These small creatures were entirely innocent and subject to the whims of humans: the dog had probably been thrown out due to its age, while he'd found the racoon by the side of the road after it had been hit by a car. Even though Hibari didn't really care for people in general, his affection for the weak that were struggling to survive in the world with all their might reminded him to temper his violence.

He still had his nightmares, but he had also found a new purpose. He would be Namimori's guardian and disciplinarian. But his reputation was still weak, only really known to a few years' worth of students and a handful of the major playmakers in the town.

Slowly, he got to his feet, cradling the racoon in his arms and letting the dog follow at his heels as he went to the kitchen. There, he picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory.

"Hello, Principal? It's Hibari Kyoya. Please register me for my third year at Namimori Middle. I will also be staying on the Disciplinary Committee."

[A/N: And that's it! Thank you to everyone who watched this journey. I hope that you enjoyed my ideas of how Hibari was shaped into who he is!]

[creative-type]

Confidentiality

Word count: ~4000 AO3 Summary:  He was the youngest, most naive Straw Hat, but Chopper was also a doctor, and doctors keep their patient's secrets. 

"Any dizziness, lightheadedness, or blurred vision?" Chopper asked as he listened to Nami's heart.

"No, no, and no."

The newest Straw Hat was learning quickly that hearty constitutions were the norm for this strange little crew. For someone who had been deathly ill less than a week prior, Nami seemed to be in remarkably good spirits. But the fact remained that she had nearly been killed by a prehistoric disease, and that regular checkups were a must until Chopper was certain she would not relapse.

Lub dub, lub dub, lub dub. The steady, even rhythm was soothing. It really did seem like she was fully recovered. It was the closest thing to a miracle Chopper had seen in his short medical career.

"Hey, there's something I wanted to ask you earlier, but I forgot," Chopper said.

"Sure," Nami said with a soft smile that made him want to squirm in delight.

"Who's Arlong?"

Lub dub, lubdub, lubdublubdub…The room went deathly silent as Nami's heart began to race, and Chopper realized he had asked something very bad without even meaning to.

"Where did you hear that name?"

The sharp, almost panicked tone in her voice made him cringe. Hiding his face with his hat, Chopper tried not to see that his indomitable navigator (his new friend) was scared.

"Y-you did. When you were sick." Nami paled, and the scared look was replaced with one of horror. "Y-you were delirious. You said something about maps, and that…and that you'd have them finished on time."

Nami's arms went limp by her side, and she stared blankly ahead without seeing.

"You asked him not to hurt you."

The statement snapped her back into reality. Nami grabbed the front of Chopper's lab coat, her gaze burning with anger. "Don't you dare tell anyone. I'll deny it till I'm blue in the face. I'll call you a liar and make you wish you were never born."

"I-I wasn't going to!" Chopper stammered.

"You said it yourself, I was delirious. No one would believe you anyway."

"Nami, I'm your doctor! I would never tell anyone what happened when you were sick!"

"I—you wouldn't?" Nami seemed to remember herself, letting go of his clothes as if they were on fire.

"No, I wouldn't!" Chopper exclaimed as he took a step backward.

"Oh." Nami looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Then her hand moved to her shoulder, tracing her tattoo with one finger. "I'm sorry. It's just that Arlong…Arlong wasn't a very nice man."

Chopper nodded his understanding. "Neither was Wapol, but he's gone now. Arlong's not here either, so you're safe." His spirits lifted when he saw a small smile on the navigator's face. "But if you want to talk about it, I'm here."

Nami reached out and touched his cheek tenderly. "Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate it."

With a metal nose, blue hair, and forearms bigger than a normal man's thigh, Franky could never be described as normal. Add in cola-fueled energy systems, air cannons that shot out of his hands, and the ability to turn into a reverse centaur, Franky was downright freakish.

Chopper didn't mind. There were monsters aplenty aboard the Thousand Sunny. Franky and his cyborg body fit right in with the rest.

Besides, the shipwright was proud of his handiwork. Hardly a day went by where he didn't demonstrate some insane feature he had installed into himself all those years ago. He and Usopp would often joke with one another about what upgrades he would attempt next, each more ridiculous than the last.

Seriously, who else besides Franky would think that nipple lights were a good idea?

There was, however, one sore spot, one not-so-insignificant part of himself that Franky deemed less than super.

"Promise not to laugh?" he asked nervously the first time Chopper examined him.

"I never laugh at my patients," Chopper answered solemnly.

"I can't…I can't have kids."

Chopper blinked, unsure of what he was supposed to say. Franky rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "When the sea train hit me, it did a lot of damage, er, down there." His cheeks flushed bright red with embarrassment. "I made sure it looks normal, and there's still feeling, but I can't…"

"Have kids," Chopper answered for him.

"Yeah."

"Is that something you want?"

"No! Not now, but in the future, yeah…maybe, I dunno. It's not…manly."

Chopper nodded his understanding, although he was still amazed he was having this conversation with Franky, who seemed more interested in mechanics and robotics than romance and children.

He put a hoof on Franky's knee and gave him an encouraging smile. "If something, or someone, makes you change your mind in the future, talk to me. There are some treatment options we can try."

"Really? That's…that's super. Thanks, bro. And…if you don't mind keeping this to yourself…"

"Of course."

"What happened?!" Chopper shrieked, resisting the urge to punch Zoro right in his big, fat chin. The bleeding had stopped, but the wounds would reopen with the slightest provocation. He had seen Zoro beaten and bloody before, but the mysterious altercation at Thriller Bark had left him shredded. In places it had been difficult to find enough healthy tissue to stitch back together.

"Nothing," the swordsman replied with the same unnatural calmness he had exhibited since regaining consciousness. Normally when injured he was rushing to resume his training, wanting to excise the weakness that had led to him being hurt. This time was different. Zoro had accepted the outcome of this particular altercation with surprising grace.

It was infuriating, and Chopper was at his wits end. It was moments like this that led him to believe that Doctorine was right to throw scalpels at her patients.

"I. Am. Your doctor!" Chopper exclaimed. "I need to know what happened!"

"No you don't."

Without thinking, Chopper transformed into his full human form, looming over the swordsman as he poked a finger at the one unbandaged part of his torso. "And if you bleed to death because I didn't know the proper means of treatment?"

"Then that's as far down the path I could make it," Zoro said with a lopsided shrug.

"No, you selfish asshole!" Chopper yelled. He had never talked to one of his crewmates like this before, and he hated it. He hated it, because it wasn't even necessary. Sometimes Zoro's pride was as bad as Sanji's chivalry, but at least Sanji had the decency to admit his deference to the fairer sex would someday be the death of him.

"If I can't heal you that means…that means I failed. That I'm n-not good enough for my dream…" Chopper's vision blurred, and he couldn't keep the tears from falling. "I d-don't want you t-to die. I c-can't help you if I don't kn-know what's wr-wrong."

With one piteous sniff, Chopper reverted to his normal hybrid form and sat in the middle of the floor of his infirmary. He cried, not because he was frustrated (that happened all the time with Zoro as a patient) but because he was exhausted. The Straw Hat Pirates had been in so many life and death situations in such a short amount of time, Chopper wasn't sure how much more he could take.

He heard Zoro sigh, and the swordsman joined him on the ground. Leaning back with a small wince, Zoro looked at the ceiling in thought.

"I'm through the worst of it now," he said. "I'm not gonna die."

"B-but it doesn't make sense. Your injuries, I've never seen a-anything like it before. I'm s-scared, b-because….because I don't know what could do that to you, or if it'll happen again." Chopper wiped his eyes with his hooves. "It's as if…as if something was pushing from the inside out. All your muscles and major blood vessels had damage in their innermost layers. Like…like…"

"Like they'd been stretched," Zoro supplied.

"Yes, like if Luffy stretched his whole body too far all at once." Chopper shook his head when he thought of their captain. For once, Luffy had managed to come out of an adventure unharmed. If anything, it was the opposite.

"Exactly like Luffy," Zoro repeated, before falling silent and letting him put the pieces together.

"…You didn't," Chopper whispered when it dawned on him. "How…?"

"That doesn't matter," Zoro said, this time his tone indicating the subject was closed for good. "I'm not going to die. You did your job, Chopper, just like I had to do mine."

"O-okay."

"Luffy can never know," Zoro said. "I only told you so you'd stop worrying."

It seemed impossible, but in that moment Chopper's respect for Zoro grew even more. And to be trusted with a secret this huge meant that Zoro respected him back. Chopper nodded, brushing away the last of his tears.

"Okay."

"Hey, Chopper, is it normal when people talk to themselves?"

Chopper roused himself, blinking sleepily at Usopp. It was a quiet, warm afternoon, and the crew was all worn out from a recent skirmish with the marines. "That depends, I guess."

"Oh." Usopp leaned back on his haunches.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Usopp said quickly. "It's just…I know this guy…"

"Sogeking?" Chopper asked excitedly. Since Enies Lobby, Usopp had kept in touch with his superhero friend, and was more than happy to regale to anyone who would listen with stories of his heroic exploits.

Usopp thought about it for a moment. "Actually, it is. It's not him, per say, but his, er, sidekick. Yeah. Sogeking's sidekick, Sniper Lad, has been, well, talking to himself. He—that is Sogeking—is concerned. Because that's not normal, right?"

"What's he saying?" Chopper asked.

"Nothing bad. Pep talks, mostly."

"Hmm. It's hard to say. I don't want to make a premature judgment when I've never seen the patient."

"I understand."

"But…" Chopper tapped his chin. "Mental health is a spectrum. Health in general is a spectrum. A lot of people like to have black and white definitions of 'sane' and 'insane', but it doesn't work like that, just like there isn't a clear-cut way to say someone is 'healthy' or 'unhealthy'.

"As the sidekick to a successful hero, Sniper Lad has a very stressful and demanding job. If he's not contemplating doing harm to himself or others and uses it simply as a means to cope...Did Sogeking say if these 'pep talks' helped or not?"

"They've gotten the job done," Usopp said.

"Okay. Without knowing more information, I'd say there's nothing to worry about. People deal with stress in different ways, and if that's what works for Sniper Lad…" Chopper looked back up towards the sky. "Who is anyone else to judge?"

"That's good. I, er, Sogeking was getting really worried there for a second."

Chopper closed his eyes, ready to resume his nap. "I'd like to meet Sniper Lad someday. It's a shame Sogeking had to leave so quickly after Enies Lobby. He would have been a real help against Oars. But I guess he's busy with hero stuff."

"Yeah," Usopp said quietly. "I guess he is."

It wasn't often post-battle checkups made Chopper feel sad. Angry, incredulous, or frustrated, yes, maybe even awed if a wound was spectacular enough. But never sad.

His assessment of Robin after her rescue made Chopper sad.

A single, massive contusion covered her abdomen, the bruises a harsh bluish-purple. An abrasion started at the crest of her hip, disappearing beneath her pants. Worst was the bruising on her shoulders. Chopper could still see the individual finger prints from where she had been grabbed.

"Elephant sword, mostly," Robin said, answering the question he was too scared to ask.

Chopper made a distressed noise and tenderly touched a mark by her kidney. It was uncomfortably similar to the shape of a boot, and he was grateful he had already run the tests that ruled out internal bleeding. "Robin, how long have you had suicidal thoughts?"

"Excuse me?" Robin asked, shying away from his touch for the first time.

"You said you wanted to die," Chopper said, eyes misting at the terrible memory. "H-how long have you thought that?" And how long have I missed clinical depression in one of my patients?

Instead of avoiding the question as he half-feared she might, Robin tilted her head in thought. "I don't know exactly how long it's been, Doctor. Archeologists think about death a great deal simply by the nature of their work, and when I started doing more…unsavory deeds to ensure survival, my awareness of my mortality only increased. But actually wanting to die?" A tiny frown appeared on her face, and her eyes grew distant. "Fifteen years, maybe? It's not constant, but during low moments I've at least entertained the notion."

Chopper's stomach twisted into knots. Fifteen years was as long as he'd been alive, humanly-speaking. "Have you ever tried to…to…"

"Not directly, no. I owe too much to too many people to take my life with my own hand, no matter how badly I may have wanted to in the past." Robin looked down at Chopper intently. "Doctor, I'm asking for your discretion in this matter. The others can't know, not after all that's happened."

"A doctor never tells his patient's secrets."

They were silent as Chopper continued his assessment. Robin probably had a few cracked ribs, but there was little he could do for those other than pain control. As he examined her skull, he found several tender areas and a scab where a chunk of hair had been ripped from her scalp. One of her teeth had a large chip in it.

Sensing his mounting distress, Robin touched Chopper's shoulder reassuringly. Her eyes were tired, but her smile was warm. "I left because I didn't have those thoughts here. From the time I joined Straw Hats until Aokiji's attack…I was happy. After digging out of the pit and tasting the sunlight, I didn't want to go back to the darkness. I thought the betrayal was inevitable, and I had no choice but to go back. I was wrong, and I will fight with every fiber of my being to stay with this crew for as long as I can."

Her battered body was evidence enough of that. "Good. But, Robin, if anything happens and there's another low moment…I'm here for you."

Robin's smile widened, and she squeezed his shoulder. "I know."

One of the most exciting things about reuniting after two years was discovering what new things the Straw Hats had learned during their separation. Usopp had his new arsenal of plants, Sanji could set things on fire under water, and Brook…

Brook's new abilities were totally awesome.

"I can't believe it!" Chopper exclaimed. "You got your head cut off and lived!"

Brook took a sip of tea, obviously pleased with himself. "Well, yes. I suppose I did, didn't I?"

"That's amazing!"

"I would have thought you would be more impressed with Mr. Franky's new machines," Brook chuckled. "All I did was improve my control over my Devil Fruit."

"That's cool, but do you know what that means for me as a doctor?" Chopper nearly burst with excitement at the thought. "I have a patient who can get his head cut off and not die. That makes my job so much easier."

"Well, technically, I've already died…"

"Think of the possibilities!"

Brook set his tea down. "I have, actually, and I'd rather not do it again," he said quietly.

"Huh? Why not?" Chopper asked.

"My body was already somewhat durable. A skeleton does not truly need to eat or drink, nor does it have fleshly parts that can fall prey to disease or decay. I've lived this second life for over fifty years, and I am no different than the day my soul returned to my body."

The crux of Brook's problem dawned on Chopper, and some of his elation deflated.

"My body is held together with the energy of the Underworld. You will all age and will eventually pass on, and even when I'm reunited with Laboon, he will not live forever. I've lost those closest to me once before, and I don't want to experience that ever again."

"Oh."

"But," Brook said sadly, "I'm not certain I can die. Perhaps if what is left of me was destroyed completely, maybe, but I've learned how to project my soul outside my body. And obviously it's not something I want to go around testing, on the off-chance I'm wrong. Not yet, at least."

Chopper was quiet for a moment. "You know, Doctorine told me stories of dying people remaining in an unconscious state for over a week until family could arrive to say goodbye, and others who hold on long enough to see their children married or to hold the grandchildren for the first time and only to pass a few hours later. She always thought that people had some control over when they died. You've got a lot to live for, but when your time comes I think you'll be able to let go."

"Yohohoho, I had never thought of it that way. Thank you, Chopper. Of course, there's quite a lot I wish to accomplish before that happens." A grin spread across his skull, and Brook patted the top of Chopper's hat. "Let's not talk of such unpleasant matters any longer. It's been too long since I've seen you…though I don't have eyes…and I want to know how you've managed to develop such wonderful new transformations."

Sanji claimed he never got sick, and technically that was true.

He did, however, get short of breath.

Chopper shook his head as he pulled his stethoscope away from Sanji's chest. The symptoms were subtle, but to Chopper's sensitive ears they were as plain as day. "I know you don't want to hear it, but I think all those cigarettes are catching up with you."

"You 'think'?" Sanji said.

"It's polite doctor-speak for 'smoking two packs of cigarettes a day is going to kill you'. But I'm sure you knew that already."

"Hey, no need to be hostile," Sanji said crossly. His fingers twitched, and Chopper knew he was fighting the urge to pull out a cigarette at that moment. Chopper was very flexible when it came to doctoring, but he absolutely refused to let Sanji smoke in his infirmary.

"We've been through this before. I guess I'm just frustrated," Chopper said. "You know the risks."

"I do, and that doesn't change the fact I'm going to light up just as soon as I go through that door."

"Can't you at least cut back a little?" Chopper pleaded. "No girl's going to want to kiss you if your breath smells like tobacco."

Sanji threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, you poor, ignorant bastard. Why do you think I started in the first place? It gives me an aura of mystery that matches perfectly with my handsome charm. Look up debonair in the dictionary, and there's probably a picture of me with a cigarette."

"That same picture would also be listed under lung cancer," Chopper said.

"Well, if I live long enough to get to that point, I give you permission to laugh at my sorry ass."

"No. I'll be too busy trying to keep you alive, despite your terminal case of hopeless idiocy," Chopper said, managing a smile.

Sanji snorted. "That's something, I guess. How bad is it, Chopper?"

"You're in the early stages of lung disease. I'll make up some treatments, but as far as I can tell none of your abilities have been compromised yet."

"That's good," Sanji said, and the relief in his visible eye was nearly palpable. "No reason to give Moss Head another reason to exercise his superiority complex."

"And there's no reason to worry the rest of the crew," Chopper agreed. "All the symptoms are reversible. For now."

"Okay." Sanji stood to leave. "I'm sure there will be plenty of I-told-you-sos later, but I really need a smoke."

"Good doctors don't say I told you so," Chopper said quietly. "They stick with their patients, through thick and thin."

Sanji stared at him in surprise, unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. "Then I'm glad you're my doctor, 'cause you're the best there is."

Burns were tricky. Really, having a large amount of scar tissue regardless of cause was tricky. The new skin wasn't as flexible or strong, and if the wound went deep enough the underlying areas were affected as well. No matter how cool looking, Chopper was glad when his patents didn't scar. It was healthier that way.

It was, of course, impossible to avoid all of the time. The Straw Hats were pirates, with all of the danger that entailed. But Chopper considered it a matter of pride that he was able to treat his friend's wounds without leaving behind long-term complications.

Which, in a way, explained why he felt so guilty when he saw Luffy's chest. The X-shaped scar showed how he had been unable to be there in his captain's time of need, not just during the battle, but during the time of recovery as well. Whoever had done the initial treatment had done a serviceable job, though Chopper believed he could have done better, had he been there to try.

"Does it hurt?" Chopper asked softly, palpating the edges of the wound.

"Every day," Luffy said in his normal, simple way, as if it were no problem at all.

"I could help with that," Chopper said. "It's the least I could do after I wasn't there to help…"

"That wasn't your fault, Chopper. I don't want you to say it was ever again, captain's orders," Luffy said, with a seriousness that was usually absent from his voice. "I was the one who wasn't strong enough. Me, and no one else."

"But…" Chopper faltered when Luffy glared at him. "It's not your fault, either."

Luffy leaned back, a sullen expression on his face. "Maybe not, but I'm still gonna make sure it never happens again. I'm strong enough now, I swear."

"I know."

Slowly, Luffy's normal grin returned. "I'm not good at very many things. I can't be the Pirate King without you."

"That doesn't make me happy at all, asshole," Chopper said, delighted.

"Shishishi," Luffy laughed quietly. Then he looked down at his scar, and the serious expression came back. He blinked a few times, very rapidly as if he were trying not to cry, and when he looked at Chopper again his eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

There was a second reason Chopper did not like scars, one that was more psychological than medical. He did not like his patients to be reminded of their trauma every time they looked in a mirror. When Chopper was able to heal someone without leaving a visible mark, he liked to think he had helped heal them on the emotional level as well. He would never pretend that the pain had never happened, but he did think that it made it easier to move on.

Luffy didn't have that opportunity. Every day he would be faced with the evidence of his brother's death.

"And we've gotten stronger, too," Chopper said. "We'll be right behind you, no matter where you go."

A look of pure relief coursed through Luffy's body. He wiped his eyes and gave Chopper a wobbly smile. Maybe two years wasn't enough to completely heal him from the events that took place during the Marineford War, but that was okay. Luffy was well on his way, and Chopper would see to it that his broken heart was made whole again.

[ellenlucasonlinedatingblog]

Making My Hair Mine

Katie Klabusich

My adoptive mom’s hangups convinced me I was an ugly duckling with noticeable imperfections. Turns out, it was about her, not me, and certainly not about my hair, which isn't the enemy she -- or I -- thought it was, either.

I have a bit of an obsession with the Instagram feeds of my friends who parent. All those pics and videos of their kids being… well, kids! At 39, my inner child’s heart bursts with appreciation for all that praise of their uniqueness, the silly moments alongside them, and even encouragement for them to experiment with whatever clothing and hairstyles feel right to their personalities, genders, and whims.

A few years ago, my good friend and fellow writer Avital Norman Nathman wrote about why she “lets” her son — who inherited her whimsically curly, often multicolored locks — grow his hair past his shoulders. She’d fielded comments from self-professed, well-meaning bystanders who worried he’d be confused with a girl. As both a fierce feminist and loving mom, she rejected the false gender binary — which taught her son that he’s unique and valuable just as he is, however he is.

My own experience growing up was different.

Parents (and guardians of all titles) are people. They have their own emotional baggage, insecurities, habits, and idiosyncrasies that are part of their personalities. Because they have authority over us, it is naturally hard to see them that way when we’re growing up. Their words and actions have power long before we’re able to see themselves outside their role as the chief influencers in our lives.

Meanwhile, they incorporate those insecurities and habits into their relationships with us. In my house, my adoptive mom’s primary obsession was my hair — all of it: the length, the color, the style, and the amount of curl. And most importantly: how much it made us alike or different.

When a parent has and expresses a particular and constant attentiveness to your appearance — be it praise or criticism -- that constant feedback takes root. When I had light blond hair and soft baby ringlets through age four or five, she LOVED my hair. She played with it like I was a doll. I remember wanting to run around, but having to sit still while she brushed or braided it.

As I got older and let my hair grow, it got thicker, browner and straighter. I hit a couple of growth spurts and lost my chubby baby cheeks, too. Overall, I started looking less and less like her — triggering her insecurities about having had to adopt a child rather than being able to carry and give birth to one. At a glance, anyone who cared to take notice and didn’t know I was adopted would've simply assumed I was going through a phase where I just looked more like my darker, Hungarian father.

But people stopped commenting about how remarkably alike we looked. For her, every new trait pushed us further apart and made me less hers. I’m positive this would've been true even without a birthmark on my scalp for her to focus intently on.

Since reuniting with my birth mother last year I learned that my delivery was long. Like, so long she wasn’t particularly sure which date she’d given birth on. I was born after almost forty hours of labor, and that makes the birthmark — a dime-sized bald spot with a small bump in the middle — likely a result of the doctor using forceps to help me along. It’s always been there, just left of center midway down my skull in the back. My hair has always been thick, so it’s always been covered. But the fear that it could be seen — what if I did a cartwheel? or the wind blew at recess? — pushed my mom to cater hairstyles around it, narrating her thought-process as she did.

At some point she noticed that the hair around the bald spot was curlier than the rest of my hair. It was also darker (probably because it was covered and never got bleached by the sun like the top layer). With a furrowed brow, she sat me down in front of a movie and cut the curlier hair down to half an inch, creating — of course — a larger bald spot. Three times the size of the original, in fact. I couldn’t leave it alone because it was new and felt weird. And thus, an almost thirty-year-long tick was born. Beating it would take therapy, meds, and an intense desire to cast off all the insecurities I have that are tied to her.

In the ten or so years between the first time my mom excised the “extra” curly hair and when I won the battle to control what was done to my head just before my senior year of high school, she went through various phases — which meant I had to go through them with her. At one point she was so grossed out by this thing that made me weird and different and ugly (or at least that’s how it made me feel) that she leaned down and, in a giggle-whisper voice like we were both ten years old, said: “It’s almost like ya got pubic hair back here!”

What kid wouldn’t get a complex? I think that now, but I would never have asked a peer for validation or their opinion. I was terrified of just the idea that someone would see it.

She’d also been frosting my hair at home for what felt like forever. For those who don’t know, frosting was a do-it-yourself highlighting kit from the olden days (the 70’s). It was something my friend’s moms usually did for themselves while we kids played with less permanent homemade concoctions for our hair made from different Kool-Aid flavors.

Frosting first required brushing your hair to within an inch of your poor scalp’s life, and then squeezing a plastic cover, like a swimming cap, over your head, eyebrows, and ears. Then, a tool that should only be used for crocheting is poked through the cap 75-200 times, to pul a few hairs through at a time. Once you look like a potato that’s been allowed to sprout, all those pulled-through hairs are brushed again (OUCH!) and a packet of chemicals is mixed using a mask. Why a mask, you say? Because the fumes are f’ing toxic. My hair usually took half an hour to get tugged, completely stripped of color, super dry, and extra frizzy.

It is perhaps unsurprising that I did not undergo this process willingly.

By the time I got to middle school, I’d completely adopted my mom’s paranoia about the hair around the spot and the spot itself. The popular hairstyle in my peer group was “The Rachel” (from “Friends” — flat, straight, with just one or two playful layers in the front to fall in the face). My hair was never going to be flat, but it hadn’t totally transitioned to curly, so I was still trying to wrangle it smooth. That two-or-so-inch ring of trimmed down hair was making most of the hair near the crown of my head poof out noticeably. I was willing to do something more time and money intensive.

Lye had already gone out of fashion as a chemical in hair straighteners because it burns like hell. It feels like your scalp is being literally fried. I — voluntarily, this time — let my mom take me to a stylist who applied the old-school formula and brushed it in, dragging a comb over the skin of my bald spot. The back of my head hurt for days afterward. We repeated this every three or four months.

Eventually, I told her I was tired of messing with it. I’d never picked up her love of a two-hour morning make-up and hair routine. I was going to be taking a “zero-hour” class at 6:50am before the regular school day started the following Fall. I was smartly looking to cut out things I didn’t need (or want) to spend time on. I must have sounded sensible enough (I often cited my academic goals when I needed something), because I got to drop all the extras, and so I also got to see what my actual hair looked like. Luckily, the 90’s had loosened up a bit (or I had) and my curly hair was either a non-issue (better than being bullied!) or people liked it because it was different.

Even though it felt like a HUGE victory to have wrested control over my hair back from my mom at 17 (and without a fight!), it would be another two decades before I was truly comfortable with it. Appearance is about our features, and my often waist-length curly hair was my most distinguishing one. I’d let Mom talk me into cutting it the month before I went to college and it’s the only decision I regret. So I let it grow. And grow. And the more I heard how cute it was short, the more I grew it out of spite.

More than seven years after disowning me the first time (just before Christmas in 2011), when I looked in the mirror I still saw the result of choices that have been about defiance.

Why was anything this toxic person had ever said about my hair to me or anyone else still defining what I did with it?

I think about my hair every day, even if it’s just to pull it back out of my face. So every day a tiny piece of that trauma plays out in the back of my head — right underneath that damn spot causing all the trouble, LOLsob — even if I don’t consciously notice.

Then I thought: what if I just cut it?

I realized I didn’t care if it was perfectly even (a big step for someone with even my mild form of obsessive-compulsive disorder). I didn’t care if my current partners would like it. I popped by a drug store and grabbed decent scissors. I flipped my head upside down over a towel and started chopping!

I didn’t expect to feel so lightweight and fancy free.

I brushed it. I washed it. I ran my fingers through it. I posted a selfie three full days after washing it, sleeping on it, putting it up and taking it down for work, and otherwise playing with it because it was new. As people popped up to say how great it looks, I didn’t feel my typical trepidation and immediately launch into rejecting or mitigating the compliments. I thought, “Yeah. It does!” By the next day, it’d been elevated to my favorite haircut EVER.

I had a date with my primary partner/boyfriend who I’d been with for almost two years. This is someone who has seen my body at various weights and shapes as my health fluctuated, different versions of my hair, with and without makeup. I've never been perfectly comfortable naked in front of a partner; like most of us, I have an insecurity or two. But I believe him when he says he loves my body — including my hair, which I always wear up when we have sex.

Every time my hair got in the way during a sexual situation and a partner groaned (not in the good way, but usually not intentionally) I had a jolt of mood-killing insecurity. Which lead to me automatically pulling it back. I didn’t realize it until very recently, but those unintentional disapproving sounds definitely triggered memories of my Mom’s judgemental noises as she snipped the tight curls around my birthmark.

Even though my current boyfriend has said it isn’t/wouldn’t be in the way, and I believe him about that too, I never wanted my hair down. I just didn’t want to have to manage it — or be distracted by it, or think about it at all — during an enjoyable, but admittedly often messy, activity. Even though wearing it up was a long-standing habit, it hadn’t ever occurred to me that it was affecting my overall body image.

Well. Two weeks ago I found myself unconsciously taking my hair tie OUT OF MY HAIR as things were heating up with Current BF! When I realized it — I realized it felt GOOD. That I felt good! I didn’t feel any kind of insecurity. An hour later when I was all blissed-out I didn’t even try and picture what I looked like — what my hair might look like. I didn’t care. It was just part of the rest of me.

Of course it was. It is! IT’S MY HAIR. It always has been, but now it feels like it is.

body image

self image

self esteem

family

growing up

identity

comfort

hair

appearance

parents

adoption

sex

relationships

working it out

empowerment

Bodies

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[matthewtwelveministry-blog]

TRUE LIFE STORY OF ZACHEAUS MET JESUS   AND HIS LIFE WAS MIRACULOUSLY   CHANGED.

TRUE LIFE STORY OF ZACHEAUS MET JESUS   AND HIS LIFE WAS MIRACULOUSLY   CHANGED.

I see a large square, which looks like a market and is shaded by palms and other lower leafy trees. The palm-trees grow here and there, without any order and their top leaves rustle in the warm upper breeze, which raises a reddish dust, as if it came from a desert or from uncultivated places of reddish earth. The other trees, instead, form shady porches along the sides of the square, and vendors and buyers have taken shelter under them, in a restless shouting din. In a corner of the square, exactly where the main road leads into it, there is a primitive excise office. There are scales and measures, and a bench at which is sat a little man who oversees, watches and deals in cash and to whom everybody speaks, as if he were very well known. I know that he is Zacchaeus, the exciseman, as many people address him, some to ask about the events of the town, and they are mainly strangers, some to pay their taxes. Many are surprised at seeing him worried. He seems in fact absent-minded and engrossed in thought. He replies in monosyllables and at times with gestures, which amazes many, who know that Zacchaeus is usually talkative. Some ask him whether he is not feeling well or if any of his relatives is ill. But he says no. Only twice he shows keen interest. The first time when he questions two people who have come from Jerusalem and are speaking of the Nazarene, of His miracles and teaching. Zacchaeus then asks many questions: « Is He really as good as they say? And do His words correspond to facts? Does He really make use of the mercy which He preaches? On behalf of everybody, also of publicans? Is it true that He does not reject anybody? » And he listens, thinks and sighs. The second time when someone points out to him a bearded man, who is passing by with a little donkey laden with household goods. « See, Zacchaeus? That is Zacharias, the leper. He lived in a sepulchre for ten years. Now that he is cured, he has bought the furnishings for his house, which was emptied according to the Law, when he and his relatives were declared lepers. » « Call him. » Zacharias comes. « Were you a leper? » « I was and so were my wife and my two children. My wife was the first to be infected and we did not notice it at once. The children became infected sleeping with their mother, and I, when I approached my wife. We were all lepers! When it was found out, they sent us away from the village… They could have left us in our house, as it was the last one… at the end of the street. We would not have caused any trouble… I had already grown a very high hedge, so that we might not even be seen. It was already a sepulchre… but it was our home… They sent us away. Away! Away! No town wanted us. And quite rightly! Not even our own town had wanted us. We stayed near Jerusalem, in an empty sepulchre. Many poor wretches are there. But the children died, in the cold of the cave. The disease, cold and starvation soon killed them… They were two boys… they were beautiful before the disease. They were strong and beautiful, dark brown like two blackberries in August, curly and lively. They had become two skeletons covered with sores… They had no hair left, their eyes were sealed with scabs, their feet and hands were falling off in white scales. I watched the bodies of my children waste away!… They no longer looked like human beings the morning they died… one after the other within a few hours… I buried them under a little earth and many stones, like the carrion of animals, while their mother screamed… A few months later their mother died… and I was left alone… I was waiting to die and no one would dig a hole to bury me… I was almost blind when one day the Nazarene passed by. From my sepulchre I shouted: "Jesus! Son of David, have mercy on me!" A beggar, who was not afraid to bring me his bread, had told me that he had been cured of his blindness, by shouting that invocation. And he said: "He did not only give me the sight of my eyes, but also of my soul. I saw that He is the Son of God and I see everyone through Him. That is why, brother, I do not shun you, but I bring you bread and faith. Go to the Christ. So that one more soul may bless Him". I could not go. My feet, ulcerated to the bone, would not let me walk… in any case… I would have been stoned, if they saw me. I waited carefully for Him to pass. He often passed by coming to Jerusalem. One day I saw, as far as I could see, a cloud of dust on the road and many people and I heard shouts. I dragged myself to the brow of the hill, where the sepulchral caves were, and when I thought I could see a bare fair-haired head shine among other covered ones, I shouted aloud, at the top of my voice. I shouted three times, until my voice reached Him.

He turned round. He stopped. Then He came towards me: all alone. He came right under the spot where I was and He looked at me. He was handsome, kind, with a voice, a smile!… He asked: "What do you want Me to do for you?".

"I want to be cleansed".

"Do you believe that I can? Why?" He asked me.

"Because You are the Son of God".

"Do you believe that?".

"I believe it" I replied. "I see the Most High flash in His glory above Your head. Son of God, have mercy on me!".

He then stretched out a hand and His face was ablaze. His eyes seemed two blue suns, and he said: "I want it. Be cleansed" and He blessed me with a smile!… Ah! What a smile! I perceived a strength enter me. Like a sword of fire which ran searching for my heart, it ran through my veins. My heart, which was so diseased, became as it was when I was twenty years old, and the ice-cold blood became warm and fast-flowing in my veins. No more pains, no more weakness, and a joy, what a joy!… He was looking at me; with His smile He made me blissful. He then said: "Go, show yourself to the priests. Your faith has saved you".

I then realised that I had been cured and I looked at my hands and legs. There were no more sores. There was fresh rosy flesh where previously the bone was uncovered. I ran to a little stream and I looked at myself. My face also was clean. I was clean! Clean after being loathsome for ten years!… Oh! Why did He not pass by before? When my wife and children were alive? He would have cured us. Now, see? I am buying things for my house… But I am all alone!… »

« Have you not seen Him any more? »

« No, but I know that He is in this area and that is why I have come. I would like to bless Him once again and be blessed by Him to have strength in my solitude. »

Zacchaeus lowers his head and is silent. The group breaks up.

Some time passes. It gets warmer. The market place empties. The exciseman with his head resting on one hand is pensive, sitting at his desk.

« Here is the Nazarene! » shout some children, pointing at the main road.

Women, men, sick people, beggars rush towards Him. The square is empty. Only some donkeys and camels, tied to the palmtrees, remain where they were, and Zacchaeus remains at his desk.

He then stands up and climbs on his desk. But he cannot see anything because many people have pulled off branches and are waving them joyfully and Jesus is bending over sick people. Zacchaeus then takes off his garment and having on only his short tunic he climbs one of the trees. He goes up the large smooth trunk

with difficulty as his short arms and legs make climbing difficult. But he succeeds and sits astride two branches as on a perch. His legs hang from that kind of railing and from his waist upwards he leans out as if he were at a window and he watches.

The crowds arrive in the square. Jesus looks up and smiles at the solitary spectator perched on the branches. « Zacchaeus, come down at once. I am staying at your house today » He orders.

And Zacchaeus, after a moment of astonishment, his face purple with excitement, lets himself slide down on the ground like a sack. He is so excited that he is hardly able to put on his clothes. He closes his books and cash-desk with gestures which he would like to be very fast, but instead are very slow. But Jesus is patient: He caresses some children while waiting.

Zacchaeus is ready at last. He approaches the Master and leads Him to a beautiful house with a large garden around it, in the centre of the town. A beautiful town. Not much inferior to Jerusalem with regard to its buildings, if not to its size.

Jesus goes in and while waiting for the meal to be made ready, he takes care of sick and healthy people. With such patience… as He only is capable.

Zacchaeus comes and goes, busying himself. He is beside himself with joy. He would like to speak to Jesus. But Jesus is always surrounded by a crowd of people.

At last Jesus dismisses everybody saying: « Come back at sunset. Go to your homes now. Peace be with you. »

The garden empties and the meal is served in a beautiful cool hall facing the garden. Zacchaeus has done things in great style. I do not see any other relatives, so I think that Zacchaeus is single and lives only with many servants.

At the end of the meal, when the disciples scatter in the shade of bushes to rest, Zacchaeus remains with Jesus in the cool hall. In actual fact Jesus remains alone for a little while, because Zacchaeus withdraws to let Him rest. But he comes back and looks through a slit in the curtains. He sees that Jesus is not sleeping, but is pensive. He then approaches Him. He is carrying a heavy coffer, which he lays on the table near Jesus and says: « Master… they have spoken to me about You. For some time. One day on a mountain side You said so many truthful things, that our doctors cannot excel them. They remained in my heart… and since then I have been thinking of You… Then I was told that You are good and that You do not reject sinners. I am a sinner, Master. They told me that You cure sick people. My heart is diseased, because I defrauded, I practised usury, I have been a depraved fellow, a thief, hard on the poor. But now, I have been cured, because You spoke to me. You approached me and the demon of sensuality and riches fled. And as from today, I belong to You, if You do not reject me, and to prove to You that I am reborn in You, I divest myself of the ill-acquired riches and I give You half of my wealth for the poor and I will use the other half to give back, multiplied by four, what I got by fraud. I know whom I cheated. Then, after handing back to each of them what belongs to them, I will follow You, Master, if You allow me… »

« I do want that. Come. I have come to save and call people to the Light. Today Light and Salvation have come to the house of your heart. Those who over there, beyond the gate, are grumbling because I have redeemed you sitting at your banquet, are forgetting that you are a son of Abraham as they are, and that I have come to save who was lost and to give Life to those whose spirits were dead. Come, Zacchaeus. You have understood My word better than many people who follow Me only to be able to accuse Me. Therefore you will be with Me as from now on. »

The vision ends here.

--------------------

Jesus says:

« There is yeast and yeast. There is the yeast of Good and the yeast of Evil. The yeast of Evil, a Satanic poison, ferments more easily than the yeast of Good, because it finds matter more suitable for fermentation in the heart of man, in the thought of man, in the flesh of man, seduced all three by a selfish will, contrary therefore to the universal Will, which is the Will of God.

The will of God is universal because it is never confined to a personal thought, but it takes into consideration the welfare of the whole universe. Nothing can increase the perfection of God in any way, as He has always possessed everything in a perfect manner. Thus there can be no thought in Him of personal gain inciting any of His actions. When we say: "This is done to the greater glory of God, in the interest of God", we do not mean that divine glory is in Itself susceptible to improvement, but that everything which in Creation bears the mark of good and any person doing good, and thus deserving to possess it, is adorned with the sign of divine Glory and thus gives glory to Glory itself, Which has created all things gloriously. It is, in short, the testimony which people and things bear to God, giving evidence, with their deeds, of the perfect Origin from Which they come.

Thus, when God orders or advises you to do an action or inspires you with one, He does not aim at any selfish interest, but at your welfare, with altruistic charitable mind. That is, therefore, the reason why the Will of God is never selfish, on the contrary it is a Will which aims entirely at altruism and universality. It is the only and true Strength in the universe which considers universal welfare.

On the contrary, the yeast of Good, spiritual embryo coming from God, grows through difficulties and hardships, as it has against itself the reactions propitious to the other one: the flesh, the heart, the thought of man, pervaded with selfishness, the antithesis of Good, which by its origin can be but Love. Most men lack the will of Good and consequently Good becomes sterile and dies, or lives so poorly that it does not leaven: it remains as it was. There is no grave fault. But there is not even the effort to do the greatest good. The spirit thus lies inert: not dead, but unfruitful.

Bear in mind that not to do evil serves only to avoid Hell. To enjoy at once beautiful Paradise one must do good. It is essential. As much good as one can do, struggling against oneself and other people. Because I said that I had come not to bring peace but war, also between father and children, brothers and sisters, when such war was to defend the Will of God and His Law against the abuse of human wills aiming at what is contrary to what God wants.

In Zacchaeus the tiny quantity of yeast of good had leavened a huge mass. Only an original small particle had fallen into his heart: they had related My Sermon on the Mount to him. And they had done it so badly, mutilating it of many parts, as happens with reported speeches.

Zacchaeus was a publican and a sinner, but not through bad will. He was like one who sees things badly because the veil of cataract covers his eye-lenses. But he knows that once the veil is removed, he can see properly once again. And that sick person wants the veil to be removed. Zacchaeus was like that. He was neither convinced nor happy. He was not convinced of Pharisaic practices, which had already replaced the true Law. And he was not happy with his way of living.

He was instinctively seeking Light. The true Light. He saw a flash of it in that fragment of My speech and he hid it in his heart like a treasure. Because he loved it - bear this in mind, Mary because he loved it, the flash became more and more lively, vast and vehement, and caused him to see Good and Evil clearly and to choose rightly, generously cutting off all the tentacles which previously, from things to his heart and from his heart to things, had enveloped him in a net of malicious slavery.

"Because he loved it". That is the secret of success or failure. One succeeds when one loves. One has little success when one loves niggardly. One has no success at all when one does not love. In anything. All the more in the things of God, where, as God is invisible to corporal senses, I dare say, one must love perfectly, as far as a creature can reach perfection, in order to succeed in an enterprise. In holiness, in this case.

Zacchaeus, disgusted with the world and the flesh, as he was disgusted with the meanness of Pharisaic practices, so captious and severe for other people, so indulgent for them, loved the little treasure of a word of Mine, which reached him by chance, speaking from a human point of view. He loved it as the most beautiful thing that his forty-year-old life had ever possessed, and from that moment he concentrated his heart and thought on that point.

It is not only in evil that man's heart is where his treasure is. But also in good. Did saints perhaps during their lifetime not have their hearts where their treasure was: in God? Yes, they did. And that is why, looking only at God, they passed on the Earth, without contaminating their souls with the mud of the Earth.

That morning, even if I had not appeared there, I would have conquered a proselyte. Because the speech of the leper had completed Zacchaeus' metamorphosis. At the bench of the excise-house there was no longer a cheating vicious publican, but a man repenting his past and decided to change life. If I had not gone to Jericho, he would have closed his office, he would have taken his money and come looking for Me, because he could no longer live without the water of Truth, without the bread of Love, without the kiss of Forgiveness.

The usual harsh critics who always watched Me to reproach Me, did not see that and they could understand it even less. And that is why they were amazed at My having a meal with a sinner. Oh! I wish you never judged, leaving that task to God, you poor blind people, who cannot even judge yourselves! I never went with sinners to approve of their sin. I went to remove them from sin, because they often had only the exterior aspect of sin: their contrite souls had already changed into new souls, living to expiate. So was I with a sinner? No, I was with a redeemed soul, in need only of a guide to stand up in its weakness of a soul risen from death.

How much Zacchaeus' episode can teach you! The power of upright intention that excites desire. Upright desire that urges one to seek deeper and deeper knowledge of Good and to long for God continuously until one reaches Him, true repentance that gives the courage of abnegation. Zacchaeus had the upright intention of listening to words of true Doctrine. When he heard some, his upright desire urged him to greater desire and thus to uninterrupted research for that Doctrine; the research for God, hidden in the true Doctrine, detached him from the mean gods of richness and sensuality and made him a hero of renunciation.

"If you want to be perfect, go, sell what you have and follow Me" I said to the rich young man, but he did not do that. But Zacchaeus, although more hardened in avarice and sensuality, was able to do it. Because, through the few Words related to him, like the blind beggar and the leper cured by Me, he saw God. Can a soul that has seen God, find any more attraction in the little things of the Earth? Is that ever possible, My little bride? »

--------------------

19th July 1944.

Jesus says:

« In My several beatitudes I enunciated the requisites necessary to achieve them and the rewards that will be given to the blessed ones. But while the categories mentioned are different, the reward is the same, if you consider the situation carefully: to enjoy the same things that God enjoys.

Different categories. I have already explained that God with His thought creates souls of different tendency, so that the Earth may enjoy a just balance in all its inferior and superior necessities. If the rebellion of man upsets that balance, as he always wants to go against the divine Will, Which guides him lovingly along the just way, it is not God's fault. Men, perpetually dissatisfied with their situation, invade or upset other people's estates, either by means of true and proper abuse of power, or by attempts at such abuse. What are world wars, family feuds, professional warfare, but such active abuse? What are social revolutions, what are the doctrines that clothe themselves with the name "social", but in actual fact are nothing but arrogance and the very opposite of charity, because they neither want nor practise the justice they preach, on the contrary they overflow with outbreaks of violence, which do not relieve oppressed people, but increase their numbers to the advantage of a few arrogant fellows?

But where I, God, reign, such alterations do not take place. Nothing upsets order in My Kingdom and in the spirits which are really Mine. Thus the several -aspects of the multiform holiness of God are lived and rewarded, because God is just, pure, peaceful, merciful, free from the greed of fleeting riches, joyful in the happiness of His love. Some souls tend to one form, some to another. They tend in an eminent manner, because all virtues are present in saints. But one predominates, and on account of it, that saint is particularly celebrated among men. But I bless and reward him on account of all of them, because the reward is "to enjoy God" both for the peaceful and the merciful, for those who love justice and for those who are persecuted by injustice, for the pure and the distressed, for the meek and for the pure in spirit.

The pure in spirit! How badly is this definition always understood, even by those who perceive its right meaning! According to human superficiality and to foolish human irony, and according to ignorance, which considers itself wise, pure in spirit means "stupid".

The better class of people think that the spirit is intelligence, thought; those who are more material consider it artfulness and malice. No. The spirit is by far superior to intelligence. It is the king of everything in you. All physical and moral qualities are subjects and servants of that king. That is the situation where a creature devoted to God in a filial manner knows how to keep things in the right place. Where instead a creature is not devoted in a filial manner, idolatries take place, and the maidservants become queens and depose the spirit king. Anarchy which causes disaster like all anarchies.

Poverty in spirit consists in having the sovereign freedom from everything that is the delight of man, and for which man goes to the extent of committing material crime or the unpunished moral crime that too often escapes human law, but does not make fewer victims, on the contrary it makes more and with consequences which are not limited to taking the life of the victim, but often deprive both the victims and their relatives of their good reputation and livelihood.

The man poor in spirit is no longer enslaved by riches. Even if he does not go so far as to repudiate them materially, depriving himself of them and of every comfort by joining a monastic order, he knows how to use them sparingly for himself, which is a double sacrifice, in order to be prodigal of gifts to the poor of the world. He has understood My sentence: "Make friends by means of unjust riches". Of his money, which might be the enemy of his spirit, leading it to lust, greed and anticharity, he makes a servant that levels the way to Heaven for him - the rich: poor in spirit - a way completely spread with his mortifications and his charitable deeds for the miseries of his fellow-creatures. How many injustices the man poor in spirit mends and cures! His own injustices of the time when, like Zacchaeus, he was but a greedy hard-hearted man. Injustices of his neighbours, whether alive or dead. Social injustices.

You erect monuments to people who were great only because they were overbearing. Why do you not erect monuments to the secret benefactors of destitute mankind, to the poor and working classes, to those who use their wealth not to make their own lives a perpetual feast, but to make life brighter, better and more elevated for those who are poor, for those who suffer, for those whose functional faculties are impaired, for those left in ignorance by overbearing people, because ignorance serves their hateful aims better? How many there are, also among those who are not rich, nay, who are little less than poor, and yet they can sacrifice the "two farthings" they possess, in order to relieve a misery, which, being without the Light which they have - and their behaviour makes one understand that they do have it - is greater than their own!

Those are poor in spirit who, losing their possessions, whether large or small, know how to keep their peace and hope, without cursing or hating anyone, either God or men.

The wide category of the "poor in spirit", which I mentioned as the first one - because I could say that without such freedom of

the spirit from all the delights of life, it is not possible to have the other virtues which give beatitude - is divided and subdivided into many forms.

Humility of thought which does not swell with pride an does not proclaim itself super-thought, but makes use of the gift of God acknowledging its Origin, for Good. Only for that.

Generosity in affections, whereby one can deprive oneself also of them, in order to follow God, also of life, the most real wealth and the most loved instinctively by the animal creature. All My martyrs were generous in that way, because their spirits had become poor, in order to become "rich" in the only eternal riches: God.

Justice in loving our personal things. It is our duty to love them, because they are testimony of Providence in our favour. I have already spoken about that in previous dictations. But we must not love them more than we love God or His Will; you must not love them to the extent of cursing God, if man snatches them from you.

And finally, I would repeat it, freedom from the slavery of money.

Those are the different forms of that spiritual poverty that I said will possess Heaven out of justice. Put under your feet all the fleeting riches of human life to possess the eternal riches. Consider the Earth and its deceitful fruit, which is sweet outside and bitter inside, as the last thing, and live working to conquer Heaven. Oh! there is no fruit there with a false flavour. There is the ineffable fruit of the enjoyment of God.

Zacchaeus had understood that. That sentence was the arrow that opened his heart to Light and Charity. It opened it to Me as I approached him to say to him: "Come". And when I came up to him to call him, he was already "poor in spirit". He was therefore capable of possessing Heaven. »

[theastonishingkylejackson]

The Astonishing Devin Shellhammer, columnist for The Astonishing Bourbon Diaries

A Visit with Liberty Pole Spirits – Written By Devin Shellhammer, Columnist for The Astonishing Bourbon Diaries

  Western Pennsylvania is an area that holds an extensive amount of early American history.

The Whiskey Rebellion is one of my personal favorite pieces of history that this area has witnessed.

Whiskey was something that was enjoyed frequently in the 1700-1800s.

It was safer to drink than a lot of the water in the area. Farmer/distillers would turn their leftover grain into whiskey after harvests and use the distilled spirit to trade and barter with others since paper money was scarce on what was then the frontier of America.

When our first president decided to tax the production of whiskey, farmer/distillers felt angry and betrayed because this spirit played such a big part in the way they made their living and supported their families.

We often think of whiskey as something that brings people together today.

We enjoy the complex flavors with (often) complex conversations. This beautifully distilled spirit often lifts our own spirits and brings a smile to our faces. A recent trip to a Western Pennsylvania craft distillery showed me that not only does whiskey bring people together today; it has been bringing people together since the birth of our great country.

In mid-October, I took the owner of Liberty Pole Spirits in Washington, Pennsylvania, up on an offer to show me the distillery.

I arrived with a good friend in tow, coming off of a pretty rough night myself.

I didn’t let that stop me.

I opened the door to the tasting room and was immediately transported in time.

A long wooden table with heavy benches sat to my right. In front of me was a giant wooden clerk’s desk, beautifully polished. Behind the desk was a giant mantle with all of the Liberty Pole whiskeys lined across the top.

The fireplace below was not being used to heat the colonial-era looking room, but rather being used for whiskey (a much better use if you ask me). A portrait of Alexander Hamilton is hung upside-down above the mantle, mimicking a sign of disrespect in England with portraits of the monarchy.

While looking around and taking everything in this room in, I was met by two beautiful dogs and a young man in jeans and a fall jacket, coffee cup in hand.

I shook his hand and introduced myself. I learned his name was Kevin, and he was one of the distillers at Liberty Pole Spirits. Lexie and Murphy also made sure to see that I felt welcome as they brought me a squeaky toy and sat at my feet. Kevin began to tell me some of the background of the distillery and the area.

We all know the basic facts of the Whiskey Rebellion.

After the Revolutionary War, Alexander Hamilton served as the first Secretary of Treasury. In order to pay off the debt from the Revolutionary War, Hamilton suggested an excise tax on whiskey produced in the United States.

This was the first tax established by our new government. Distillers often resorted to violence and threats to stop tax collectors from trying to collect the whiskey tax, but there were also a large number of individuals that showed their disagreement with the tax by raising Liberty Poles along roads and in town centers.

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  These individuals called themselves the Mingo Creek Society, as they had all met in a meetinghouse near Mingo Creek and agreed to not pay the tax. This civil protest is the namesake for a distillery that makes whiskey as complex as the history of the area in which they made their home.

The label that goes onto all of their products shows the depiction of a woman named Spirited Jane holding a small Liberty Pole. She was the mother of a young boy named Oliver Miller that died during the Rebellion.

His brother shot three warning shots into the air with their father’s gun when soldiers came onto their property.

One of the bullets came back down and hit Oliver. They rode him on horseback overnight to a place where a doctor could see him.

They got the bullet removed, but it must have gotten infected. The young boy passed away within a week or so. It is believed that she would have been one of the first to put up a Liberty Pole out of mourning for her son and her hatred of the whiskey tax that caused the loss of her son.

After getting some more background on the area and the distillery, Kevin gave me a tour of the distillery. As he walked me back a hallway, I could see where it opened up to a large, open area which happened to be home to a 300 gallon copper pot still and a smaller 15 gallon copper pot still.

Harold (300 g) and Howard (15 g) are named after the fathers of the owners Jim and Ellen Hough, husband and wife. As I stood and admired these handsome stills, Kevin informed me that they were hand made by Trident Stills in Maine.

To my left, were a set of stairs surrounded by a small brick wall. Kevin asked me if I’d like to see the barrels. He didn’t even have to ask me. Of course I wanted to see the barrels!

We head down the stairs into the basement. All of their corn and malt are stored there as well. Kevin opened up a bag of heavily peated malt and told me I could pick some out, smell it, and even taste it if I wanted.

I know what you’re thinking… why does an American craft distillery have heavily peated malt? I’ll get into that later. I raised the malt to my nose and immediately my nostrils were flooded with the familiar scent of smoke. I popped a piece into my mouth and chewed it like granola. The beautiful peaty flavor spread across my tastebuds and I was practically in heaven.

Jim Hough, the owner had joined us downstairs by this time as well.

We moved on to the corn in the back of the room. The corn that they use is a very interesting variety. It has a blood red color to it, and the kernels are fairly large in size. It is called Bloody Butcher Corn, for obvious reasons. The corn is a very high protein corn, which means less whiskey per load of corn, but the flavors that it yields are phenomenal.

From the malt, we moved on to the barrels.

They’ve got about 4 large barrel racks in a small rickhouse set up in the basement. This setup is the epitome of a small scale craft distillery. Some of the barrels have names on them, a benefit people can get by joining their Mingo Creek Society, which is kind of like an ambassador’s club.

Some of the barrels are 15 gallon barrels, some of them 10. Once again, very small scale production. Smaller barrels can also mean a quicker aging process, though, which is good for a small craft distillery. Yours truly will hopefully have her name on a barrel before too long as well!

Back upstairs, I got to see some other things.

I saw the small room where the family hand bottles all of their products and puts the labels on by hand. I saw a larger

Final samples, during lunch….

barrel that is used for their “white whiskey,” a duck hat that an employee likes to wear around the distillery, a pineapple hanging on the wall as the international sign of hospitality, and pizza. That’s right, pizza. We all sat down to lunch in the tasting room around a large table. I enjoyed the pizza with a local craft beer that had been aged in one of their rye whiskey barrels.

About ten minutes into lunch, it started to feel like family. Jim and Ellen really made me feel at home. Any questions I had, they had answers that put me at rest. We started to all get to know each other better over lunch.

After lunch was when we got down to business… Kevin brought out a bunch of Glencairn glasses and

a bottle of every whiskey that they make. This moment was what I had been waiting almost a month for.

We started off with their Bassett Town Rye, their white rye whiskey. I’ll admit, I’m not very open-minded when it comes to white whiskeys. I’m typically not a fan.

After smelling their Basset Town, which honors the original name of the area that is now Washington, I had a slight change of heart. The Bassett Town Rye has a sweetness to it on the finish that I have never experienced in a white whiskey. This whiskey spends one night in a barrel, just about the amount of time that it would take a farmer to get the whiskey to market.

After the Bassett Town, we tried their Rye Whiskey. Their rye still had some of the sweetness that the Bassett Town did, but there was a lot more oakiness to it from being aged longer. I really enjoy rye whiskeys, and this one strengthened that belief. Their rye is softened a bit with wheat, but still holds a lot of spiciness from the new charred oak barrels it is aged in. After being triple distilled, their rye whiskey is ready to be sipped neat or added to a cocktail to spice things up.

The Corn Whiskey was the next one we tried. This one really showcased the unique color that the Bloody Butcher corn gives the whiskey. There wasn’t a very malty flavor to the corn whiskey, as its mash blend is 80% Bloody Butcher Corn and 20% barley malt. The corn gives it a rather sweet finish that was vastly different from the rye. Trying the two back to back made it interesting with seeing the polar opposites.

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  Next we tried Liberty Pole’s bourbon. Their bourbon is aged in deeply charred new oak barrels and consists of a mash blend of 57% Bloody Butcher Corn, 18% wheat, and 25% barley malt. The corn and the wheat give it a sweetness, but you still have the malty flavor in there. Hints of oak and caramel are prevalent from the aging process in the barrel. Tasting their bourbon opened the door for the next whiskey, my personal favorite…

Liberty Pole Spirits makes an award winning Peated Bourbon. This whiskey honors the farmer/distillers of Scotch Irish descent that were involved in the Whiskey Rebellion. They use a heavily peated malt in their mash blend, which is 59% Bloody Butcher Corn and 41% barley malt and peated barley malt. The peated barley malt is what I tasted earlier in the day. On the nose, I could immediately smell the peat. I got it on the front of the whiskey as well. Despite being heavily peated, the corn puts up a good fight throughout the body of the whiskey. It finishes with the two peacefully coexisting, but the peat lingers for a long while.

A Black Manhattan…. wow…. just looks astonishing to taste….

The previous 5 whiskeys are the ones that are currently available from the distillery. I also got to try a few new things they’ve been working on, such as a single malt, a cask strength rye whiskey, a bourbon crème, and a few other ideas that Ellen had while we had lunch. I was also given a “Black Manhattan” made with their peated bourbon. This cocktail was one of the more interesting ones I’ve had, and I’d certainly drink a few more given the chance.

Liberty Pole’s Peated Bourbon took the gold medal in 2017 from the American Craft Spirits Association. Their Bourbon took home a bronze medal and their rye took a silver medal. Their Corn Whiskey also took a bronze medal in 2017 from the American Distilling Institute. For being open just over a year, this is a huge accomplishment.

I had briefly mentioned the Mingo Creek Society, but I wanted to make sure that I gave a little more information on it. It is a free membership, and members receive all kinds of benefits. They will receive a Mingo Creek Society keychain, 10% off all merchandise, invitations to exclusive pre-release parties, a holiday gift, your name on a barrel and a notification of when the whiskey from that barrel is bottled, invitations to exclusive meetings with the distillers, and 10% off dinner with Original Whiskey Rebels at the annual Liberty Pole Raising.

I joined, and I’m glad I did. If you’re interested, you can sign up for free on their website by clicking here.

After my visit to Liberty Pole and my experiences with the entire family, I will certainly be going back for some events and to get more Peated Bourbon, because I know that will become a comfort whiskey of mine.

For those of you that are within a few hours of Washington, Pennsylvania, I definitely recommend giving Liberty Pole Spirits a chance.

The crew and the whiskeys are phenomenal and will not disappoint.

Thanks for reading 🙂

I’m The Astonishing Devin Shellhammer, Columnist for The Astonishing Bourbon Diaries of The Astonishing Tales, and I Approve This Message.

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The Astonishing Bourbon Diaries: An American History Lesson With A Splash Of Whiskey From The Old Colonies A Visit with Liberty Pole Spirits - Written By Devin Shellhammer, Columnist for The Astonishing Bourbon Diaries…

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Making My Hair Mine

Katie Klabusich

My adoptive mom’s hangups convinced me I was an ugly duckling with noticeable imperfections. Turns out, it was about her, not me, and certainly not about my hair, which isn't the enemy she -- or I -- thought it was, either.

I have a bit of an obsession with the Instagram feeds of my friends who parent. All those pics and videos of their kids being… well, kids! At 39, my inner child’s heart bursts with appreciation for all that praise of their uniqueness, the silly moments alongside them, and even encouragement for them to experiment with whatever clothing and hairstyles feel right to their personalities, genders, and whims.

A few years ago, my good friend and fellow writer Avital Norman Nathman wrote about why she “lets” her son — who inherited her whimsically curly, often multicolored locks — grow his hair past his shoulders. She’d fielded comments from self-professed, well-meaning bystanders who worried he’d be confused with a girl. As both a fierce feminist and loving mom, she rejected the false gender binary — which taught her son that he’s unique and valuable just as he is, however he is.

My own experience growing up was different.

Parents (and guardians of all titles) are people. They have their own emotional baggage, insecurities, habits, and idiosyncrasies that are part of their personalities. Because they have authority over us, it is naturally hard to see them that way when we’re growing up. Their words and actions have power long before we’re able to see themselves outside their role as the chief influencers in our lives.

Meanwhile, they incorporate those insecurities and habits into their relationships with us. In my house, my adoptive mom’s primary obsession was my hair — all of it: the length, the color, the style, and the amount of curl. And most importantly: how much it made us alike or different.

When a parent has and expresses a particular and constant attentiveness to your appearance — be it praise or criticism -- that constant feedback takes root. When I had light blond hair and soft baby ringlets through age four or five, she LOVED my hair. She played with it like I was a doll. I remember wanting to run around, but having to sit still while she brushed or braided it.

As I got older and let my hair grow, it got thicker, browner and straighter. I hit a couple of growth spurts and lost my chubby baby cheeks, too. Overall, I started looking less and less like her — triggering her insecurities about having had to adopt a child rather than being able to carry and give birth to one. At a glance, anyone who cared to take notice and didn’t know I was adopted would've simply assumed I was going through a phase where I just looked more like my darker, Hungarian father.

But people stopped commenting about how remarkably alike we looked. For her, every new trait pushed us further apart and made me less hers. I’m positive this would've been true even without a birthmark on my scalp for her to focus intently on.

Since reuniting with my birth mother last year I learned that my delivery was long. Like, so long she wasn’t particularly sure which date she’d given birth on. I was born after almost forty hours of labor, and that makes the birthmark — a dime-sized bald spot with a small bump in the middle — likely a result of the doctor using forceps to help me along. It’s always been there, just left of center midway down my skull in the back. My hair has always been thick, so it’s always been covered. But the fear that it could be seen — what if I did a cartwheel? or the wind blew at recess? — pushed my mom to cater hairstyles around it, narrating her thought-process as she did.

At some point she noticed that the hair around the bald spot was curlier than the rest of my hair. It was also darker (probably because it was covered and never got bleached by the sun like the top layer). With a furrowed brow, she sat me down in front of a movie and cut the curlier hair down to half an inch, creating — of course — a larger bald spot. Three times the size of the original, in fact. I couldn’t leave it alone because it was new and felt weird. And thus, an almost thirty-year-long tick was born. Beating it would take therapy, meds, and an intense desire to cast off all the insecurities I have that are tied to her.

In the ten or so years between the first time my mom excised the “extra” curly hair and when I won the battle to control what was done to my head just before my senior year of high school, she went through various phases — which meant I had to go through them with her. At one point she was so grossed out by this thing that made me weird and different and ugly (or at least that’s how it made me feel) that she leaned down and, in a giggle-whisper voice like we were both ten years old, said: “It’s almost like ya got pubic hair back here!”

What kid wouldn’t get a complex? I think that now, but I would never have asked a peer for validation or their opinion. I was terrified of just the idea that someone would see it.

She’d also been frosting my hair at home for what felt like forever. For those who don’t know, frosting was a do-it-yourself highlighting kit from the olden days (the 70’s). It was something my friend’s moms usually did for themselves while we kids played with less permanent homemade concoctions for our hair made from different Kool-Aid flavors.

Frosting first required brushing your hair to within an inch of your poor scalp’s life, and then squeezing a plastic cover, like a swimming cap, over your head, eyebrows, and ears. Then, a tool that should only be used for crocheting is poked through the cap 75-200 times, to pul a few hairs through at a time. Once you look like a potato that’s been allowed to sprout, all those pulled-through hairs are brushed again (OUCH!) and a packet of chemicals is mixed using a mask. Why a mask, you say? Because the fumes are f’ing toxic. My hair usually took half an hour to get tugged, completely stripped of color, super dry, and extra frizzy.

It is perhaps unsurprising that I did not undergo this process willingly.

By the time I got to middle school, I’d completely adopted my mom’s paranoia about the hair around the spot and the spot itself. The popular hairstyle in my peer group was “The Rachel” (from “Friends” — flat, straight, with just one or two playful layers in the front to fall in the face). My hair was never going to be flat, but it hadn’t totally transitioned to curly, so I was still trying to wrangle it smooth. That two-or-so-inch ring of trimmed down hair was making most of the hair near the crown of my head poof out noticeably. I was willing to do something more time and money intensive.

Lye had already gone out of fashion as a chemical in hair straighteners because it burns like hell. It feels like your scalp is being literally fried. I — voluntarily, this time — let my mom take me to a stylist who applied the old-school formula and brushed it in, dragging a comb over the skin of my bald spot. The back of my head hurt for days afterward. We repeated this every three or four months.

Eventually, I told her I was tired of messing with it. I’d never picked up her love of a two-hour morning make-up and hair routine. I was going to be taking a “zero-hour” class at 6:50am before the regular school day started the following Fall. I was smartly looking to cut out things I didn’t need (or want) to spend time on. I must have sounded sensible enough (I often cited my academic goals when I needed something), because I got to drop all the extras, and so I also got to see what my actual hair looked like. Luckily, the 90’s had loosened up a bit (or I had) and my curly hair was either a non-issue (better than being bullied!) or people liked it because it was different.

Even though it felt like a HUGE victory to have wrested control over my hair back from my mom at 17 (and without a fight!), it would be another two decades before I was truly comfortable with it. Appearance is about our features, and my often waist-length curly hair was my most distinguishing one. I’d let Mom talk me into cutting it the month before I went to college and it’s the only decision I regret. So I let it grow. And grow. And the more I heard how cute it was short, the more I grew it out of spite.

More than seven years after disowning me the first time (just before Christmas in 2011), when I looked in the mirror I still saw the result of choices that have been about defiance.

Why was anything this toxic person had ever said about my hair to me or anyone else still defining what I did with it?

I think about my hair every day, even if it’s just to pull it back out of my face. So every day a tiny piece of that trauma plays out in the back of my head — right underneath that damn spot causing all the trouble, LOLsob — even if I don’t consciously notice.

Then I thought: what if I just cut it?

I realized I didn’t care if it was perfectly even (a big step for someone with even my mild form of obsessive-compulsive disorder). I didn’t care if my current partners would like it. I popped by a drug store and grabbed decent scissors. I flipped my head upside down over a towel and started chopping!

I didn’t expect to feel so lightweight and fancy free.

I brushed it. I washed it. I ran my fingers through it. I posted a selfie three full days after washing it, sleeping on it, putting it up and taking it down for work, and otherwise playing with it because it was new. As people popped up to say how great it looks, I didn’t feel my typical trepidation and immediately launch into rejecting or mitigating the compliments. I thought, “Yeah. It does!” By the next day, it’d been elevated to my favorite haircut EVER.

I had a date with my primary partner/boyfriend who I’d been with for almost two years. This is someone who has seen my body at various weights and shapes as my health fluctuated, different versions of my hair, with and without makeup. I've never been perfectly comfortable naked in front of a partner; like most of us, I have an insecurity or two. But I believe him when he says he loves my body — including my hair, which I always wear up when we have sex.

Every time my hair got in the way during a sexual situation and a partner groaned (not in the good way, but usually not intentionally) I had a jolt of mood-killing insecurity. Which lead to me automatically pulling it back. I didn’t realize it until very recently, but those unintentional disapproving sounds definitely triggered memories of my Mom’s judgemental noises as she snipped the tight curls around my birthmark.

Even though my current boyfriend has said it isn’t/wouldn’t be in the way, and I believe him about that too, I never wanted my hair down. I just didn’t want to have to manage it — or be distracted by it, or think about it at all — during an enjoyable, but admittedly often messy, activity. Even though wearing it up was a long-standing habit, it hadn’t ever occurred to me that it was affecting my overall body image.

Well. Two weeks ago I found myself unconsciously taking my hair tie OUT OF MY HAIR as things were heating up with Current BF! When I realized it — I realized it felt GOOD. That I felt good! I didn’t feel any kind of insecurity. An hour later when I was all blissed-out I didn’t even try and picture what I looked like — what my hair might look like. I didn’t care. It was just part of the rest of me.

Of course it was. It is! IT’S MY HAIR. It always has been, but now it feels like it is.

body image

self image

self esteem

family

growing up

identity

comfort

hair

appearance

parents

adoption

sex

relationships

working it out

empowerment

Bodies

Pregnancy & Parenting

Etc

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