For Elaine

My brain is an ancient tomb where you,

A quick and shining lizard, come to feast.

Your little unexpected teeth bite through

The thick board busily; and the least

Splinter dropping from your pink tongue

Calls forth squeaks of delight:

I think, therefore, that you are very young.

T also think that a belly so white

And tender and so full of rich black blood

Must feel particularly well

Slipping through sweet grass and warm mud

To the leavings of hell.