I stayed with you
but my poem was in-between.
You were as red as the heavens.
I reposed in green.
My own green happiness smiled,
my lakes had pleasant thoughts;
you saw my calm happiness
as I lay by your side.
You had but a limited time to thrill
with the sensuality—
the sunrise painted the hill
but the words were mine.
Over the music I heard your voice
excited by the wine.
In the morning, I took everything.
The poem made you jealous.
When I tried to sing,
You derided.
Conspiracy of thought! World divided!