you are not going to,dear. You are not going to and
i but that doesn’t in the least matter. The big
fear Who held us deeply in His fist is

no longer,can you imagine it
i can’t which doesn’t matter
and what does is possibly this dear,that we may resume
impact with the inutile collide

once more with the imaginable,love,and eat sunlight(do
you believe it? i begin to and that doesn’t matter)which

i suggest teach us a new terror always
which shall brighten
carefully these things we consider life.
Dear i put my eyes into you but that doesn’t matter
further than of old

because you fooled the doctors,i touch you with hopes and
words and with so and so:we are together, we will
kiss or smile or move. It’s different too isn’t it

different dear from moving as we,you
and i,used to move when i thought you were going to(but
that doesn’t matter)
when you thought you were going to America.

moving was a matter of not keeping still;we were
two alert lice in the blond hair of nothing