AFTER THE HONEYMOON It doesn't matter How sweet is Your Honeymoon, How fragrant a Garden Springs up to surround you Every step you take. When He's let you Make His Acquaintance And that Oasis Has served its purpose, He points out to you A heat-steaming Road That stretches away Across an endless desert. Then He and the Oasis disappear. After that It doesn't matter How many people Surround you. You are alone. It doesn't matter What you know Or know how to do. No one needs that knowledge. No one can use those skills. He has drawn His circle Of exclusivity around you. You are His Alone, But He has disappeared And even His Voice Has become inaccessible. You long For the soft Pillow of His embrace, As you lay Your head on stones Night after night. Then, when you Have endured An exponential Of what you thought You could ever take, He claps His Hands. In a second The whole world Is green again.
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