Inoculate Poem by Patti Masterman
Inoculate
Inoculate with love the self,
And pain will immolate;
And multiply by ten- besides-
The longing you'd abate.
Sever all the hearts are true,
And leave them hanging there
As admonition, for the rest-
That love is built- on air-
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: longing
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8/16/2026 4:08:47 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
