To die whole,
riddled with nothing
but desire for it,
is like breakfast
after love.


Words for Dr. Y.: uncollected poems with three stories (ed. 1978)


To die whole, riddled with nothing but desire for it, is like breakfast after love.

To die whole, riddled with nothing but desire for it, is like breakfast after love.

To die whole, riddled with nothing but desire for it, is like breakfast after love.

To die whole, riddled with nothing but desire for it, is like breakfast after love.