I took Night
Into my arms,
Night lay upon my breast.

If night had wings
She would have brought me
Stars for my hair.

The stars laughed
Lightly
From far away.

About my shoulders
White mist curled.

V. PORTRAIT BY ZULOAGA

Death lies in wait
For those who do not know
What they desire,
And Hell for those
Who fear what they have taken.

These hands are wrinkled
From stretching forth,
Brown
From the winds blowing upon them.

They are strong with seizing,