Ultima thule

I wish I never left this rag-walled lodge,
Yurt of your kins lost in this polar snow.
Your nanny healing, feeding - she knows the dodge
Of our gonner bliss to quicken and bestow.

Fasten my soul like a drowning prow
When germs fill my eyes like bubbles
On this pure-white snow...
Immense...

She's carol-singing, going a-shroving,
Quacking on scarred wood to charm away my blight.
Toute blanche, oh, toute blanche.
Lost in the white to exorcise my night,
Wormwood and thyme in roundelay a-soaring.
As blind koradji nursing the winter flame.
Toute blanche, oh, toute blanche...
My second heart awakens from the blame
(To love?)

This eld of me, how it nets through my goose-skin
When my soul exhausted is ravishin' your flesh and burns.
At night does she hear us breathe and smile akin
The enfilade dormant nympth all swathed in furs?

Ultima thule,
Oh how fleet and vague was my youthhead obsessed - lane Cimmerian Summer
As the butterfly clamped up her wings, paced away like a queen,
The dead silence deepened to forever ween.
Wretched and comatose like years of heart in its ponderous, tedious slumber.

As a tulpa of callowness I smouldered in glo.
Will this lewd voracious kiss retake my go?
 
Toute blanche...
The beauty born in white reveals in black and red
With sound of the burning wood in chimney's candent bed,
Hearth of our hearts in impenetrable darkness.

So fasten my soul, oh, crone of relict!
And the pretty domestic routine is alluring, unfading
All those pale morning trains, never coming home rain-traffics
Are all left behind
Like the stainmarks of amber disturbing
On the aged photograph.

Do fasten my soul, oh, the fostress of secrecy!
For me and my lover.
Whirl me circles a-shroving
As the raven-flocks of my dark past
Scatterband fly apart.
And the grave-stones are sprawling
And matzevas are falling
And the crosses are burning
In the sunlight relenting,
Icy day overwhelming

I level my eyes far behind as I dive
Asking my future: "Are my dear ones alive?"
Come and vanish my fear!

Whirl me circles, oh, sorceress!
In the dance of my vertigo and of thy heathen prosody
Asperse me with parlance extinct,
Bedrop me with life-giving water of will,
Coddle me up a-crooning.
   

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