Every thrill of joy, every jab of pain
Reminds me of my solitude.
The deeper paths of my god-bearing brain
Will forever be untrodden.
In vain I fight and see
The twisted pictures of my words,
Which paint all but themselves in gaudy surmise.
I seek myself in someone else,
For solace in those eyes.
My body's union is my soul's hope,
It gains all - or dies.
Stephen Digby, 1971
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