FOUR III

here’s a little mouse)and
what does he think about,i
wonder as over this
floor(quietly with

bright eyes)drifts(nobody
can tell because
Nobody knows,or why
jerks Here &,here,
gr(oo)ving the room’s Silence)this like
a littlest
poem a
(with wee ears and see?

tail frisks)
               (gonE)
“mouse”,
        We are not the same you and

i,since here’s a little he
or is
it It
?   (or was something we saw in the mirror)?

therefore we’ll kiss;for maybe
what was Disappeared
into ourselves
who   (look)   ,startled