Fondlers on the rumpled cot,
Pressers in fury and delight,
See in your act analogy,
See counterfeit and a wise sleight.
Not this what you began to say—
This stammering colloquy of flesh,
This triumph swaddled and alive,
A birdwing beating in coarse mesh.
And the dull mumble the thick word
The blundering lunge the tumbled breath;
The dream caesareaned and thumbed,
Life drumming in the throes of death.
Your meaning-0 beyond far hills
Over the surf and the outer main,
Outeagleing Vega—but the wish
Lolled in deep blood, swamped in the vein
Dawn is my witness, soon to show
Flagging the channels lately high,
But vast and unabated yet
The longing of the atlantic eye.
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