And could you swim at Lindisfarne, softening
with sunrise and never bicker? Good intentions,
still all thumb. Pray you don’t waste time. I
pray nightly never to see you too held close by
wicker, I pray but all day slapdash careful to save
face. To have been married, I pray nightly never.
There is no counsel, no closure, no opening,
just winter. ‘In leaving you, I left myself’ oh
bore on, Cara Helena Derelicta. You ask: why
must all these poems sing to me? I am trying
very much to work on my intellectual honesty.
Some cheek, I agree, to wail after a ship I