/ Poetry

Tess

Under the rug where it will lie unseen
The fates have pushed your honest letter, Tess—
And all that you and he might soon have been
Is wasted in this catastrophic mess.

The fates have stolen your brave letter, Tess,
And all you said remains as if unsaid,
All wasted in the catastrophic mess
Which closes in around your marriage bed.

All that you have said remains unsaid;
All that you have been remains unknown.
Pain closes in around your marriage-bed:
The joyful seeds of your pure love unsown.

All that you have been remains unknown
Until the bridal night when you confess.
The joyful seeds of your pure love unsown,
You’re trapped by Angel’s double standards, Tess.

Until the bitter night when you confess,
You live in innocence. It’s much too late.
You’re trapped by Angel’s double standards, Tess,
You’re cornered by a hidden twist of fate.

You live in innocence. It’s much too late.
Under the rug where it will lie unseen
You’re cornered by a hidden twist of fate,
With all that you and he might once have been.

Tess
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