what taste, what scent
so much apart of my soul
so content to rely on
though blind my love
though lofty her intent
her eyes do haunt
her warmth now vacant numbs
my breath as if drown
my thoughts, to deaf ears
and the stillness of God is denied
what taste, what scent
there is no time
there is no deed
to know is to taste
to believe is to feel
whether weeks or months
i am undone
i am unloved
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