Picture.

I Am Not Yours

I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love -- put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.

Sarah Teasdale, written on the eve of her wedding to a man she didn't love, in 1914 when she was 30.

No agenda. This poem was set to music in the concert I was singing in tonight, and it just struck something. Enjoy.

P.S. I've edited the previous post with some more explanations...