because that

she wants her poesy delicate

poets thin slight in frame

reciting madrigals

knowing all the roses by name

& anything else

is but a disgrace to art

writing lines about dead life

curtain calls for shame

& I try to prise her eyes

away from yesteryear

hints & provocations

to living in the now

but no

she knows she wants tears

from heroes in pale

feather behind the ear

reciting words from dead people

because that

she feels she can get behind

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