Author Emily Dickinson 379 Rehearsal to Ourselves Of a Withdrawn Delight— Affords a Bliss like Murder— Omnipotent—Acute— We will not drop the Dirk— Because We love the Wound The Dirk Commemorate—Itself Remind Us that we died. Tags murder love wind love poem love poems love poems for her love poetry poems about love romantic poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments