1 br My heart's aflutter! br I am standing in the bath tub br crying. Mother, mother br who am I? If he br will just come back once br and kiss me on the face br his coarse hair brush br my temple, it's throbbing! br br then I can put on my clothes br I guess, and walk the streets. br br 2 br I love you. I love you, br but I'm turning to my verses br and my heart is closing br like a fist. br br Words! be br sick as I am sick, swoon, br roll back your eyes, a pool, br br and I'll stare down br at my wounded beauty br which at best is only a talent br for poetry. br br Cannot please, cannot charm or win br what a poet! br and the clear water is thick br br with bloody blows on its head. br I embrace a cloud, br but when I soared br it rained. br br 3 br That's funny! there's blood on my chest br oh yes, I've been carrying bricks br what a funny place to rupture! br and now it is raining on the ailanthus br as I step out onto the window ledge br the tracks below me are smoky and br glistening with a passion for running br I leap into the leaves, green like the sea br br 4 br Now I am quietly waiting for br the catastrophe of my personality br to seem beautiful again, br and interesting, and modern. br br The country is grey and br brown and white in trees, br snows and skies of laughter br always diminishing, less funny br not just darker, not just grey. br br It may be the coldest day of br the year, what does he think of br that? I mean, what do I? And if I do, br perhaps I am myself again.