Pity me; I am a fool. You are a woman.
I have worn this brace in the ocean,
Although I fancy an infinite thunderstorm
To pleasure your mending heart.
I am a man – it is true. You have two jumpers
And you’ve brought them to me:
Shall I backbend for your effort?
Ah, but I am an idiot who cannot
Beat himself at checkers, who cannot spell
His own initials, who must remember
To hold his breath underwater.
You are a woman: please forgive me.
The ferryman is paddling backwards.
The sands of time are tumbling
In the locket of a sailor. I know nothing is
Forever – I’ve collected all I can.
I have shuttled up that palm frond
And used it to commit hari-kari.
Camouflage my body in your fragrance,
Nobody will raise a hand in protest.
You are a woman and I embody a fool.