At best, you are St. John.

At worst, Mr. Huntingdon,
M. Emanuel.

When you need me, which you will,
I will be walking the moors.
Petulant Heathcliff.

This wild hair in another time is not as wild.
I set pen to paper day after day
after day after day.

I will write sense into this world

If it takes me the rest of my life,
Which it may.

Because there’s a madwoman in the attic

And you are Mr. Rochester

And I, Jane.