I do not press my fingers across my mouth, I keep as delicate around the bowels as around the head and heart, Copulation is no more rank to me than death.
I plead for my brothers and sisters.
In the houses the dishes and fare and furniture-but the host and hostess, and the look out of their eyes?I do not know what is untried and afterward, But I know it will in its turn prove sufficient, and cannot fail.Before I was born out of my mother generations guided me, My embryo has never been torpid, nothing could overlay.On women fit for conception I start bigger and nimbler babes.Each who passes is consider'd, each who stops is consider'd, not single one can it fall.Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic, And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones, Growing among black folks as among white, Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same.Askers embody themselves in me and I am embodied in them, I project my hat, sit shame-faced, and beg.Easily written loose-finger'd chords-I feel the thrum of your climax and close.I dilate you with tremendous breath, I buoy you up, Every room of the house do I fill high resolution media player with an arm'd force, Lovers of me, bafflers of graves.49 And as to you Death, and you bitter hug of mortality, it is idle to try to alarm.And what is love?Perhaps I might tell more.This is the geologist, this works with the scalper, and this is a mathematician.A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me, The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full.I fly those flights of a fluid and swallowing soul, My course runs below the soundings of plummets.
My rendezvous is appointed, it is certain, The Lord will be there and wait till I come on perfect terms, The great Camerado, the lover true for whom I pine will be there.
Somehow I have been stunn'd.