DEARTH, by VIRGINIA RICHARDS CASABONA
First Line: There is / this night a poignant/superfluity Last Line: Of you! Subject(s): Poisons & Poisoning
There is This night a poignant Superfluity Of things: the very heavens sag, Star-burdened; While sweet With scent of trees And honeyed flowers, and warmth Caught up from cooling earth, the air, Like amber Wine, Adds torture to A lingering desire -- Enhancing cruelly the dearth Of you!
