Memory is a strange BellโJubilee, and Knell.
The poet lights the light and fades away. But the light goes on and on.
Nothing more do I ask than to share with you the ecstasy and sacrament of my life.
I see thee better in the dark I do not need a light.
Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.
I would like more sisters, that the taking out of one, might not leave such stillness.