Relax
Like an old soldier,
Wakeful, in his tent
And you
Dark love me now
Helpless
No, healthy no, breathe no!
His wire plain voice rolled
Went invitingly forth like that of a bull
Her little head was thrown back in scornful reproof
But as you see, my arms have gotten nothing
And was greedily gulping air, coughing and spitting.
Then he came to others on the rusty rails.