Hast thou not ruin d me fully and deeply With thy incessant never-presence Why dost thou maintain to kill me completely When knowest thou my heart in all sense mind and tense Thou o truly thou art hurting me slowly As thou turnest the blade of deceit And thou no other holds my pain as holy Why must thou poison my love replete repeating thy defeat But even more why doth I stead desire For that which is ever unprocured Only a breath is needed to stoke the fire The burning flame d cinder endured preserved and ever obscured Had I been Hamlet to Ophelia would I have given these words coyote