I Am Torn In Two But I

O Yellow Eye, Let Me Be Sick With Your Heat, Let Me Be Feverish And Frowning.

I Have A Black Look I Do Not Like. It Is A Mask I Try On. I Migrate Toward It And Its Frog Sits On My Lips And Defecates.

The Silence Is Death. It Comes Each Day With Its Shock To Sit On My Shoulder, A White Bird, And Peck At The Black Eyes And The Vibrating Red Muscle Of My Mouth.

It Was As If A Morning-glory Had Bloomed In Her Throat, And All That Blue And Small Pollen Ate Into My Heart, Violent And Religious

When I Lie Down To Love, Old Dwarf Heart Shakes Her Head. Like An Imbecile She Was Born Old.