There you Stretched yourself Out

The present stagnant waters upon the shore
of some great lake, overrun with mosquitoes
taking first flight, bred with urge to drink the blood
of whomever bends to drink. Backward—
backyards, those same pools were shallow.
But once I was allowed to sit within that circle
when the hose had been applied: There
I found my strength—my force—my anger—
the laughter caused by the causing of some motion.
And now I am a bad boy—not good—not great.
What can I to prove—not to you, God—but to I, God—
that I hold no evil? Forward—the Swedish sun falls
through the night to cup your gloaming breasts—I dream of you. You—
you know me as a nightmare and I hold that inside of me
as Greed and Lust. You—you could have caused a wave,
a tidal wave with one short burst of speech. But no—No.
You said to me, “I wont tell anyone.”
        “Tell your sister. Let her know.”
        “No.”
        “Let her know. Why suffer?”
        “No, I can’t do that.”
        “Why?”
        “Because of you.”

There was a pause—I saw you standing by those still waters
with your eyes closed, that to you I held, held, held that dream
that dream of everything—

there you stretched yourself out, along the shore, naked,
against the rumur of mosquitoes.