The Slime Of All My Yesterdays Rots

I Felt The First Man I Slept With Must Be Intelligent, So I Could Respect Him.

I Thought The Most Beautiful Thing In The World Must Be Shadow, The Million Moving Shapes And Cul-de-sacs Of Shadow. There Was Shadow In Bureau Drawers And Closets And Suitcases, And Shadow Under Houses And Trees And Stones, And Shadow At The Back Of People's Eyes And Smiles, And Shadow, Miles And Miles And Miles Of It, On The Night Side Of The Earth.

I Was My Own Woman. The Next Step Was To Find The Proper Sort Of Man.

People Or Stars Regard Me Sadly, I Disappoint Them.

I Laid My Face To The Smooth Face Of The Marble And Howled My Loss Into The Cold Salt Rain.