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Ritrova, Mento
(Ritrova: Italian~ It finds again / Mento: Spanish~ I mention)

Tonight Selene, I drink her
in fulsome breathing tides
she breathes with me
as is her wont..
You are not alone
tonight Selene

Truth Selene, she cites me
to smashing foaming tides
I am her rock, the pestle
she is forged before my sight
as I too, might be tended
to her ready forme in time

Yet I find myself in flight
again tonight Selene, still..
fomenting moments lacking -
then come roughshod steeds of doubt
and the blacking that shines my gloomy heart
and all its trappings, back and forthe
to agleam the dark

Ravenous Selene, I plead break us
from your wuthering jealous scorne;
your light from such exculpable height
since worldly time immemorial borne
it does make to lead and incite
inamorata et inamorato alike
to fullness of empyrean raptures
some fair place anew on Earth at every sign

But why not for her and I, Selene?
You withhold this cup from us this very sacred night?
This cession does but scuff and shelve our retriment souls
in dim lit suite's far corners 'till morningtide
while elsewhere on the world
others gladly steel the night!

Last night Selene, I drank her in
and bade begone your dark
she breathed with me
as was my wont..
she is alone
tonight Selene

you are of course on high; at home,
and again tonight Selene, I am, too, alone
yet tho' I love her more than life itself
Selene, I madly swear to thirst of you alone!.
if only you would but let me breathe
to love her as my own.. as is my wont

and how I will remember us
ut supra, senza erroneamente a lacuna
tho I lately shutter you from all sight
please, now I beg of you, Selene
to be favourable to my mortal soul
on all its earthly 'morrow nights
Copyright © Ben Kross

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