I said: my appointed master
Am I painted by Mary Cassat?
Hyacinth narcissus daphne
This spring is smothersome stuffy
It’s just this fatigue, and my tongue
Tastes of metal, and soil, and of wrong
You said: the tale of the train is coming along
As the train is coming along.
I said: out of sheer lizardness
Can I please hazard this
Leap and plant myself flat free from struggle?
You said: when the vein in your temple under my lips
Will no longer flutter.
I said: of this spring infatuation
Am I due to die in succession?
You said: grow patient.
I said: sin Apollo.
You said: all poison.
I said: why can’t it go quicker?
You said: you have a built-in ticker.
I said: when did it start to unravel
You said: the day I pressed my hand on your navel.
I said: will you at least grow through me
Will I taste your waters
Will they solve the copper tang on my tongue
Will we for a minute belong
You said: the tale of the train is coming along
As the train is coming along.

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