Careless

How careless is love in her pleasure
That sees in the Other reality
Bound to none but her own reckless desire.

She ties up her hair, makes cosmic measure
Of the Other, crafting  their beauty
Carelessly. Love in her pleasure

Seeks for the ever elder fire,
Longs for the highest actuality,
Bound to none but her own reckless desire.

And all her cheaper goods she will retire,
Without which she will dance ever free -
For careless is love in her pleasure.

And never will she be called a liar
When she said her love was vast as the sea,
Unbound in all her reckless desire

And unfathomed in the depths of her decree
Binding all with the weight of her gravity.
How careless is love in her pleasure,
Bound to none but her own reckless desire.

Featured image: “Sunset near le Croisic,” by Fernand Loyen du Pulgaudeau (1895), picture of painting taken by commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Paradise_Chronicle, licensed under creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

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