World Take Good Notice World take good notice, silver stars fading, Milky hue ript, wet of white detaching, Coals thirty-eight, baleful and burning, Scarlet, significant, hands off warning, Now and henceforth flaunt from these shores.
And you O my soul where you stand, Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space, Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them, Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold, Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.
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She spoke in a cold, detached manner as though she didn’t care about him any more.
These days, she seems emotionally detached whenever she talks about him.