It’s terrible to be possessed by brittle things. How can you learn here who taught people to draw Stars between eyebrows, butterflies over the gristle Of throats, weeping eye between breasts. And anyway, who taught them to live with strange Chasms, with their nocturnal beasts, With this yawning, this singing, this delirium – unreachable Even with open palms outstretched: take them If you are not afraid of such embraces. If the faces floating up from an amalgam Of sploches, from the molding, black, silvery depths Don’t frighten you.
