Chased her thru the night of trees, care free, free of restraint, the wild play before poetry corrupts the ambiguity, the lessness in young male wanderlust. To have you his way; to have you my way. There remains much to know about cock & spleen, its devilish trust in an Other theatre of love. These are cycles, this pain & release. Yet some habits of pain are not not meant to torment /us.