All that hair flashing over the Atlantic,

Henry’s girl’s gone. She’ll find Paris a sweet place

as many times he did.

She’s there now, having left yesterday. I held

her cousin’s hand, all innocence, on the climb to the tower.

Her cousin is if possible more beautiful than she is.

All over the world grades are being turned in,

and isn’t that a truly gloomy thought.

It’s June, God help us, when the sight we fought

clears. One day when I take my sock

off the skin will come with it

and I’ll run blood, horrible on the floor

the streaming blood reminds me of my love.

Wolves run in & out

take wolves, but terrible enough

I am dreaming of my love’s hair & all her front teeth are false

as were my anti-hopes.