After “Beyond Good and Evil”

Nietzsche once likened Truth 

To a woman—But Truth, veiled behind a corporality where 

words do not reach, in a time before things had Names—

Would she heed my poem, the uncrystallized syllables of my love so 

fragile that to speak is to shatter it?

I am no warrior. No blonde 

Beast, and if the lightness of being was not so

Unbearable, I would have waltzed across the tightrope 

Over the abyss, the one between man and Overman to

Sway her with a litany of lies, lullabies that

Resound like commandments—

“Speaking is a fine madness; 

with it man dances above all things.”