Taken up to the night, soft velvet night
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I would that blankets held me warm and not arms
With joints of fingers and edged nails of ten at their end
Ready to bend and extend in distress and in love.
I would that the clouds cushion my head while I love in vain
All the things the earth below me possess
And obscure the stars of every quiet wrinkle, every last rasp
I would all those things for the sky's my ancient battlefield, my right eternal
Here I wrest fate and tumble hope till dizzy
From the darkening sky, the deepening night.
The conscious shape reality.