All day lazy and heavy limbed I have gone
Around and around the house, so love encumbered
I could not get hold of my body. I have been burdened
By an audible quiet so weighting my shoulders down
That my languid hands could lift neither book nor thread.
I observed that the palms in the yard are slipped with a silver
As dull as the worlds of love told over and over-
Other than that, nothing. Nothing has happened.
While all the long day you have held on your sinewy arm
Her whose lightness I envy. Her unbraided hair
Is lifted. How silent the room is. I wonder where
You are now, wanton? The evening wind is warm.
The streetlights strike the luminescent palm fronds.
Glazing the shifting green with luster. I'll scream
Her name and "Whore!" and hammer at every room.
My lungs are damp. I don't know what to do with my hands.