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To your reasonable half-truths I have ceased to reply
You will be silenced only by waking
& that is perhaps only at your own command
It is not for me to overpower you
when I myself was never overpowered

& I accept your common sense like the steady drip of rain
or the persistent ruffling of a sea breeze
Who am I to tick like a bird Is it? Is it? Is it?
Your common sense is a thing of nature
& it has a value for you

But I am skirted in invisible diamonds
My eyes are flames, unkind like a bird's
& I stalk through the world without your understanding
I don't know any word in the way you know it
My melody is not in the key you suppose

      — Michael Peverett