77 To Constance
For you it took the strain of tying in a knot,
Of stretching legs and arms between your parting days,
Of twisting to the pain, your neck inside the net --
To learn light-hearted flutters of your evening waltz;
The strain of speaking with the stones inside your mouth,
Of getting silent with the sand between your teeth,
Of your forgetting words, and listening to the rhythm,
To learn the harmony of vowels in your sound;
The strain of lying in your head beside the night,
Of falling in the hidden holes between your days,
Of seeing only walls within the open space,
To learn the thirst of mercury inside your eyes.
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