Indigo bulb of darkness
Punctured by needle lights
Through a fissure of brick canyon 
       shutting out stars,
And a sliver of moon
Spigoting two high windows 
       over the West river…

Boy, I met to-night,
Your eyes are two red-glowing arcs 
       shifting with my vision…
They reflect as in a fading proof
The deadened eyes of a woman,
And your shed virginity,
Light as the withered pod of a sweet pea,
Moist and fragrant
Blows against my soul.
What are you to me, boy,
That I, who have passed so many lights,
Should carry your eyes
Like swinging lanterns?