Different lights fall, making the ordinary leopard
spottedand strange. Those bladder shapes painted red and yellow
A girl sits at acottage door; she is waiting; for
Ihave tried to draw from the living flesh the stone
lodged at thecentre.
The iron black boot became a pool of deep
Now I know what the parcelshold; and do not care
much. The great avenues of civilizationmeet here and strike this way and
I am not a whimperinglittle animal making for the
I pick my way over broken glass, among blistered
tiles,and see only vile and famished faces. I am merely Neville toyou, who see the
narrow limits of my life and the line it cannotpass.
Rimmed in a gold circlethe looking-glass held the
scene immobile as if everlasting in itseye. The sheets spotted with yellow holes let
me fall through.
I tookthe print of life not outwardly, but inwardly
upon the raw, thewhite, the unprotected fibre. One bone lay rain-pocked and
sun-bleached till it shone like a twigthat the sea has polished. I have run
violently like a whip flung out to the extremeend of my tether.
Trembling with ardour, I pretended that I was
Your voices sound like treescreaking in a forest.
Red and gold shot through thewaves, in rapid running arrows, feathered with
darkness. How swift life runs fromJanuary to December!
A bird, perched on an ash-colouredtwig, sipped a
beak full of cold water. I am wrapped round withphrases, like damp straw; I glow,
phosphorescent. Whenwe were young we sat anywhere, on bare benches in draughty
hallswith the doors always banging. Rippling small, rippling grey, innumerable waves
spread beneath us. There is alwaysmore to be understood; a discord to be listened
for; a falsity tobe reprimanded. Jinny broke thethread when she kissed me in the
garden years ago. Up and up it comes,approaches, hesitates, stops at my
I am wrapped round withphrases, like damp straw; I
glow, phosphorescent. But then Rhoda, or it may be Louis, some fasting and
anguishedspirit, passes through and out again. The white petals will bedarkened with
sea water. But then Rhoda, or it may be Louis, some fasting and anguishedspirit,
passes through and out again. I like rain when it hasturned to snow and become
Crimson, green, violet, they are dyed all colours.