Skin is forbidden again— not to touch! not to touch! forget each history of wet, for we are what reverses lust, and makes a ghost of red memory. Again there is “I meant …” “I didn’t mean …” two talk at once or not at all, and all tends to Philosophy. But how long can we walk and talk, and rarefy our night and day, how long can we practice innocence when hunger tells us to turn in, lose everything but what we only are, and learn what is forgotten once again.

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