Little poppies, little hell flames,Do you do no harm?

You flicker. I cannot touch you.I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns

And it exhausts me to watch youFlickering like that, wrinkly and clear red, like the skin of a mouth.

A mouth just bloodied.Little bloody skirts!

There are fumes I cannot touch.Where are your opiates, your nauseous capsules?

If I could bleed, or sleep! -If my mouth could marry a hurt like that!

Or your liquors seep to me, in this glass capsule,Dulling and stilling.

But colorless. Colorless.