madness i want you again!
whatever eyes there is
like thieves — you won’t even notice
for you’re making love with your own pantomime.
you thin bodied and shallow rounded eyes
your bones looks fragile and ancient,
your tight skin sighing!
sandals that continually slip
on the husky floor until it
stops stomping back and forth
against the numbers and sat down.
i cannot trace the rest of your movements
i cannot trace the rest of the words
i cannot hold you with bare hands —
there is nothing on this but a sketch
of your nudity i had imagined.