PREFACE

To be a willow tree that by the stream doth weep bent o’er and withered be all seasons be a perpetual winters night where the sun and moon no longer shines for thee where the perfume of the roses be not scented for thee to have reached the winter of thy life no more perfume to waft fromst thy greying hair no more thy beauty to make lover take a breath in the winter of old age thy skin as sere and camphor threaded thru thy hair and to pretend one is young still when back is bent and cunt dry as a desert dune when it be a fact thee be cloaked in invisibility oh to yearn for to cry as in mirror looks “I want to be forever young