Narcissus

Echo, you dizzy tramp, I’m searching for my soul; Echo, I won’t white picket fence my heart Inside your Jackie bag with brown rusty nails, I’m searching for my soul, Mirror images from the train windows kidnap me, I’m a white hermetic monstrosity The earth bleeds every spring, I steal the souls of things with my camera; O the awful love-pain of water reflections, O the terrible grace I’m courting, Confucius, go away; My Heathcliff gaze finally meets The white apophyllite eye of my tetragonal soul; A thousand full moons exfoliate me like a leaf; Grow my paperwhites in water rather than soil, Put me next to a bright window before I’m gone.