159 Who are you? I do not know you -- a man whose angles Reach me and scrape my skin; whose voice is flowing in my veins, Forcing me to boil or freeze; man whose eyes are tangled Tight with my eyes, imprinting every image with his stamp; Who pursues me to the bells of my temples, ringing Loud in my head; who enters every room inside my sleep, Breaking locks, not knocking, stopping my clocks, and reading Poems he wrote in me in pink; who holds me on a leash, Leading me away from me till I'm lost; who makes me Dream of his dreams, and feel: my hands extend his hands, my walls Echo him, my footprints trace his; who has me measure Space with his shoe size, time -- with the percussion of his words.


Confined Verse
Collected Poems