Not from this anger， anticlimax after

　　Refusal struck her loin and the lame flower

　　Bent like a beast to lap the singular floods

　　In a land strapped by hunger

　　Shall she receive a bellyful of weeds

　　And bear those tendril hands I touch across

　　The agonized， two seas.

　　Behind my head a square of sky sags over

　　The circular smile tossed from lover to lover

　　And the golden ball spins out of the skies；

　　Not from this anger after

　　Refusal struck like a bell under water

　　Shall her smile breed that mouth， behind the mirror，

　　That burns along my eyes.