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Dissolute

by D. H. Lawrence, 1916

Many years have I still to burn, detained
Like a candle flame on this body; but I enshine
A darkness within me, a presence which sleeps contained
In my flame of living, her soul enfolded in mine.

And through these years, while I burn on the fuel of life,
What matter the stuff I lick up in my living flame,
Seeing i keep in the fire-core, inviolate,
A night where she dreams my dreams for me, ever the same.

Published in Amores
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