i walk upon the sky. i’m making my sky-making earth.
i am the darkness in it, a many-being’d brain. i forbid me, and command
and tempt me. i try, i will, i dream, i quail, negate, deny. i shut
my eager lips, i clamp my teeth on my taboo-tormented tongue.
how can i sing the glittering jewel of dew and oh, all being’d gods, to whom?
each eye a dewdrop, knowing as well as i do the sighing sweetness
of a spring morning, the textured beauty of time-long thought,
the wash of rain, the nagging kiss of pain, the pain of kiss.