In your words I felt shelter,
now I am as a snake under a stone.
I was a hare amongst bears,
I was a herd-horse on its own.
"How would you welcome a visitor into your home?"
I tasted her, I felt her.
She shaved her head, I was a louse.
And if you, too, were a fig amongst pigs,
if trouble swelled within through growth without,
"How would you ask to enter someone's house?"
Now a grass grows tall unnourished, unlit.
Or if I found another way of looking at it:
the old fall, the young falter, the joined split.
But those who claim lost love never really found it.
Now we deal with what I dealt her
with fingers stretched and anger brewing.
But if you dragged a mole from its hole,
if it came clear grief was ensuing,
"How would you ask someone how they are doing?"
Sent to hell to stir and swelter,
I returned and sought my love.
But if the way were many days,
if present passed as present does,
"How would you ask someone how his journey was?"