Was he then Adam of the Burning Way? <br />hid away in the heat like wrath <br />conceald in Love’s face, <br />or the seed, Eris in Eros, <br />key and lock <br />of what I was? I could not speak <br />the releasing <br />word. For into a dark <br />matter he came <br />and askt me to say what <br />I could not say. “I ..” <br /> <br /> <br />All the flame in me stopt <br />against my tongue. <br />My heart was a stone, a dumb <br />unmanageable thing in me, <br />a darkness that stood athwart <br />his need <br />for the enlightening, the <br />“I love you” that has <br />only this one quick in time, <br />this one start <br />when its moment is true. <br /> <br /> <br />Such is the sickness of many a good thing <br />that now into my life from long ago this <br />refusing to say I love you has bound <br />the weeping, the yielding, the <br />yearning to be taken again, <br />into a knot, a waiting, a string <br /> <br /> <br />so taut it taunts the song, <br />it resists the touch. It grows dark <br />to draw down the lover’s hand <br />from its lightness to what’s <br />underground.<br /><br />Robert Duncan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/such-is-the-sickness-of-many-a-good-thing/
