A Spiritual Woman

#listen-container { display: inline-block; padding: 9px 15px; background: #10578E; cursor: pointer; transition: all 0.3s ease; border: 1px solid #1791ef; border-bottom: 1px solid #156caf; -webkit-box-shadow: 0 1px 0 #156caf; -moz-box-shadow: 0 1px 0 #156caf; box-shadow: 0 1px 0 #156caf; } #listen-container:hover { background: #2f9cf1; } #listen-container a { color: #fff; } .listen-container-svg { fill: #fff; height: 20px; width: 22px; margin-right: 5px; } #text-player { margin-right: 0; display: inline-block; font-size: 16px; top: -3px; position: relative; float: none; font-family: "Roboto","sans-serif"; font-size: 12px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 0.1em; } Listen to this Poem Your browser does not support the audio element. Close your eyes, my love, let me make you blind; They have taught you to see Only a mean arithmetic on the face of things, A cunning algebra in the faces of men, And God like geometry Completing his circles, and working cleverly. I’ll kiss you over the eyes till I kiss you blind; If I can—if any one could. Then perhaps in the dark you’ll have got what you want to find. You’ve discovered so many bits, with your clever eyes, And I’m a kaleidoscope That you shake and shake, and yet it won’t come to your mind. Now stop carping at me.—But God, how I hate you! Do you fear I shall swindle you? Do you think if you take me as I am, that that will abate you Somehow?—so sad, so intrinsic, so spiritual, yet so cautious, you Must have me all in your will and your consciousness— I hate you.