At Midnight Tears Run Into Your Ears.

I'll Lie Here And Learn How, Over Their Ground, Trees Make A Long Shadow And A Light Sound.

O Fortunate Bride, Who Never Again Will Become Elated After Childbirth! O Lucky Older Wife, Who Has Been Cured Of Feeling Unwanted!

Women Have No Wilderness In Them They Are Provident Instead Content In The Tight Hot Cell Of Their Hearts To Eat Dusty Bread.

What We Suffer, What We Endure, What We Muff, What We Kill, What We Miss, What We Are Guilty Of, Is Done By Us, As Individuals, In Private.

The Measured Blood Beats Out The Year's Delay.