40 Four twenty-seven At four twenty-five your eyes will untie The loop of my lips and knots of my eyes, Unleash hungry breath, unfold clutch of hands, Retain what I lost and lose what I had, Break bolts of my tongue and enter my throat, Throw out my food, feed me with your word To find what so long was hidden in me -- Your seed in my flesh at four twenty-six.







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IRENE CĂSAR
Confined Verse
Collected Poems

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