15 Aug: "Love Is Not All" by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain; 
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink 
And rise and sink and rise and sink again; 
Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath, 
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone; 
Yet many a man is making friends with death 
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone. 
It well may be that in a difficult hour, 
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release, 
Or nagged by want past resolution’s power, 
I might be driven to sell your love for peace, 
Or trade the memory of this night for food. 
It well may be. I do not think I would. 

1 comment:

  1. That must have been a killer night!

    Love isn't all, but it can feel like everything at times. That's such a difficult thing to grasp, or was for me. Now with more experience and a far greater understanding of emotions and the world, it's not that difficult at all to grasp.

    More time, and I'd wager the narrator sells out real quick.

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