I'll Lie Here And Learn How, Over

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

The Women Rest Their Tired Half-healed Hearts; They Are Almost Well.

But Childhood Prolonged, Cannot Remain A Fairyland. It Becomes A Hell.

O God, In The Dream The Terrible Horse Began To Paw At The Air, And Make For Me With His Blows.

Up From The Bronze, I Saw Water Without A Flaw Rush To Its Rest In Air Reach To Its Rest, And Fall.