Do not love me yet, for IAm still a slender moon,A scimitar about the heartToo sharp to touch too soon.
Before I'm touched I need to growMore full in golden light;I need to smile upon my earthAnd rule some patch of night.
I need to know what roads and fieldsLie in my domainAnd dull my brand new ecstasiesWith sophomoric pain.
I need the love of some blank boyAs cold and dark as me,That we might grope in ignoranceAnd fear of what might be.
And then when I'm a silver bowlAnd know what I can hold,Then, then, perhaps, we could try loveIf you are not too old.
Before I'm touched I need to growMore full in golden light;I need to smile upon my earthAnd rule some patch of night.
I need to know what roads and fieldsLie in my domainAnd dull my brand new ecstasiesWith sophomoric pain.
I need the love of some blank boyAs cold and dark as me,That we might grope in ignoranceAnd fear of what might be.
And then when I'm a silver bowlAnd know what I can hold,Then, then, perhaps, we could try loveIf you are not too old.
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