when my love comes to see me it’s
just a little like music,a
little more like curving colour(say
orange)
against silence,or darkness….
the coming of my love emits
a wonderful smell in my mind,
you should see when i turn to find
her how my least heart-beat becomes less.
And then all her beauty is a vise
whose stilling lips murder suddenly me,
but of my corpse the tool her smile makes something
suddenly luminous and precise
—and then we are I and She….
what is that the hurdy-gurdy’s playing