| Stasis in darkness.
|
| Then the substanceless blue
|
| Pour of tor and distances.
|
| God’s lioness,
|
| How one we grow,
|
| Pivot of heels and knees!—The furrow
|
| Splits and passes, sister to The brown arc
|
| Of the neck I cannot catch,
|
| Nigger-eye
|
| Berries cast dark
|
| Black sweet blood mouthfuls,
|
| Shadows.
|
| Something else
|
| Hauls me through air—
|
| Thighs, hair;
|
| Flakes from my heels.
|
| White
|
| Godiva, I unpeel—
|
| Dead hands, dead stringencies.
|
| And now I Foam to wheat, a glitter of seas.
|
| The child’s cry
|
| Melts in the wall.
|
| And I Am the arrow,
|
| The dew that flies
|
| Suicidal, at one with the drive
|
| Into the red
|
| Eye, the cauldron of morning. |