| |
| I AM weary, unto desire of death, | |
| Of the thought fretting in my body, | |
| Of the body wrapped round my thought. | |
| |
| They go— | |
| The curious panting creatures I would be— | 5 |
| Along the grey crust of the street. | |
| |
| I would be fused into her— | |
| Girl going whither I know not! | |
| I would have her shrill eager breasts— | |
| Gusts of storm driving the sail of her blouse; | 10 |
| Her round polished knees, rising, moving like pendulums— | |
| Engines urging the sail of her skirt; | |
| Her sharp bird-like head cleaving the sail of the wind. | |
| I would have the curious blood of her, | |
| I would have her dream. | 15 |
| |
| I would be fused into him— | |
| Child carried in the arms of a mother, | |
| Child carried whither he knows not!— | |
| I would have the gurgling mirth | |
| Emanating from gay-colored baubles; | 20 |
| The shiver, the sweat and the nightmare | |
| Emanating from dark wrangling shadows: | |
| I would have his untinted history, | |
| And the hunger | |
| To seize the whole world by the mouth. | 25 |
| |
| I would be fused into anyone going new ways. | |
| |
