If your door opened, I would shut
These other twenty doors ajar,
The ties with humankind to cut
Save paragon and exemplar.
That you do not excel the rest
I know for truth, per analytic,
But knowledge gains within my breast
No beachhead, nor stands heart the critic.
“Feeling is first,” and by emotion
You are the sea on which I ride,
My rickety craft upon the ocean,
A mote upon the face of pride.
Yet, keeping you apart from me—
By your volition, never mine—
My words find their vol’tility
Thereby approaching the divine.
Ergo these other doors I keep
Ajar or even open wider,
News to transmit, in verse to reap
Luxuriant warmth surpassing eider.