Nightfall's Nest: Basement

I got so I could take his name-
Without- tremendous gain-
That stop-sensation- on my soul
And thunder- in the room-
I got so I could walk across
That angle in the floor,
Where he turned so, and I turned- how-
And all our sinew tore-
I got so I could stir the box-
In which his letters grew
Without that forcing, in my breath-
As staples- driven through-
Could dimly recollect a Grace-
I think, they call it "God"-
Renowned to ease extremity-
When formula- had failed-
--emily dickinson, 293

Back

Email me