If You Are Not the Father Then I Am Not the Mother
Myne heart hath not the depth to contain this news. Myne soul, extinguished. Life to life, body to body, thou hath forsaken me in these regards; with leaf cleaved from from branch my saps spills. Not alabaster white, not crimson red, but midnight blue, black. Oil reflecting the night sky. Black on black on black on white, on red, all red to white to black. Now from your white to my red there is black. Now there is emptiness. Now there is life.
