44 Behind the dirty glass, you saw my eyes, Within the wrinkled bruises of the dust, Beside the drops of my dissolving rue, Despite the scrapes of my grimacing ruse, Beneath the peeling sorrow of the glume, You saw my eyes -- my eyes were fixed on you. Along with diving depth and soaring height, Alone with dirty glass, I saw your eyes. You breathed on my dim loom to wipe the grime, You washed my eyes and loosed them from the glass.


Confined Verse
Collected Poems