There was, above Caanan,
a lot to be cast:
Ineffable left-or-right, right-or-left
Above God's green ocean and
Humanity's quicksilver sea.
Left-or-right, right-or-left,
Infinite vivisections of Self.
Shall I stomp on the foot of my song?
Shall I strangle--?
Love mirrors Life mirrors Art mirrors--
Infinite refractions of Self receding
Into an infinite and planetary blue.
Sieves sift sieves; no light catches
In Humanity's silver forest.
It is no longer a question of salvation,
And the question no longer shall we
But where, and when, and wherefore shall we dance?
Shall I dance Providence in oceans,
On infinite inferior idioms?
Or shall I dance in favor of my beauty,
Senseless, Senseless
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