A dam(ned) &; Yvette

A dam(ned) &; Yvette by J.B. Pravda

She, Be of my Being,

Beat of my heart,

Arose midst this Eden in eclipse;

No girdling ribbing Her origin,

Nay, for She hath made the Garden of my dwelling, Herself ancient when
Universe was young;

And in Her beneficent Becoming breathed ephemeral Life unto mine
lung
Which knew but dusty doom's stench, 'til then;

Like Energy to energy must go, and within Her earthly garb
contained
The Force this Life hath now sustained.

To You vestal voyager, to You all praise
Always.