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In Extremis

Nay, touch me not, nor even with your eyes Hold mine, for I would speak you, thus afar, Aloof and chill and lonely as a star. The hands that urge, the hungry heart that cries, Have wrapped my love with love's elusive lies; The lips that burn have laid a ruddy scar Against the truth that stands without the bar, And blinded faith with passion's mysteries.

Night holds a single moon, day one desire-- Her golden sun; and life a love supreme, Wherein one moment poises, crowned with fire, White with the naked truth. Beyond control, 'Tis here, my Sun, in love's last hour extreme, I hold aloft my bare, adoring soul.