"SORROW, on wing through the world for ever,
Here and there for awhile would borrow
Rest, if rest might haply deliver
Sorrow.

One thought lies close in her heart gnawn thorough
With pain, a weed in a dried-up river,
A rust-red share in an empty furrow.

Hearts that strain at her chain would sever
The link where yesterday frets to-morrow:
All things pass in the world, but never
Sorrow."
- Algernon Charles Swinburne, "Sorrow"

yes like mad like breathless honey like a billion bees stinging and stinging unending stinging again and again in their hot honey furrier's forest of noise my takeaway kisses all ending in kisslessness.