says of the corporeity of love,
if we see each other as two imperishable wholes
and hide our twin thirsts,
& it seems we do; and if it seems we're not our-
selves but reeking rabbit flesh,
pushing to possess more of what is very irreal,
& more of you inside myself;
and if never becoming simply aroused affects,
possesses and arouses,
and if I'm barely 1% heart, stupendous as it seems,
and am barely myself:--
if all this is true and it seems it is and you must die,
a bocca aperta...