It is the pain, it is the pain endures. <br />Your chemic beauty burned my muscles through. <br />Poise of my hands reminded me of yours. <br /> <br />What later purge from this deep toxin cures? <br />What kindness now could the old salve renew? <br />It is the pain, it is the pain endures. <br /> <br />The infection slept (custom or changes inures) <br />And when pain's secondary phase was due <br />Poise of my hands reminded me of yours. <br /> <br />How safe I felt, whom memory assures, <br />Rich that your grace safely by heart I knew. <br />It is the pain, it is the pain endures. <br /> <br />My stare drank deep beauty that still allures. <br />My heart pumps yet the poison draught of you. <br />Poise of my hands reminded me of yours. <br /> <br />You are still kind whom the same shape immures. <br />Kind and beyond adieu. We miss our cue. <br />It is the pain, it is the pain endures. <br />Poise of my hands reminded me of yours.<br /><br />William Empson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/villanelle-4/
