132 No power to speak, but still I have my tongue to lick The unprotected pieces of your skin. I have my mouth To bellow and drone In wordless anguish by your ears, My lips -- to harden as a beak to hammer at your house. No power to hold, but still I have my hands to scratch My wordless telegrams upon your door. I have my feet To harden as hooves To thud beside your bed with rain, My throat -- to whine with wind, my cheeks -- to rub against your knees. No power to see, but still I have my eyes to crawl In darkness on your floor towards your eyes. I have my ears To harden as claws To clasp your breath within your walls, My thoughts -- to hide within each hole, each pore upon your skin.


Confined Verse
Collected Poems