Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Skin

I want to breathe air
Into your mouth
And down into your lungs.

I see your wife—
I see the knife—
And other cruelties done

Deterred, I’m not.
Afraid, I’m not.
I still know what I want:

To turn the universal key—
To flee this jaded cell!
And once again sense novelty—
Even if it’s hell.

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