Why must the little buds fold over
                                   each other,
The white sheets of the bed crumpled
                                       and restless,
Listless sleep and the nights' mind so full
                               of fear, love, doubt.

I am many things, I am nothing.
at once lovely, at once fearful,
at once a bickering lover.

I want to question, to go forth into
the lonliness of exploding life
and hold That in my arms and caress it.
But it is fleeting, it runs...