Being Sixteen In The Pants I Died

My Sleeping Pill Is White. It Is A Splendid Pearl; It Floats Me Out Of Myself, My Stung Skin As Alien As A Loose Bolt Of Cloth.

All The Oxygen Of The World Was In Them. All The Feet Of The Babies Of The World Were In Them. All The Crotches Of The Angels Of The World Were In Them. All The Morning Kisses Of Philadelphia Were In Them.

You Who Have Inhabited Me In The Deepest And Most Broken Place, Are Going, Going

Some Women Marry Houses. It's Another Kind Of Skin; It Has A Heart, A Mouth, A Liver And Bowel Movements.

I Who Was A House Full Of Bowel Movement, I Who Was A Defaced Altar, I Who Wanted To Crawl Toward God Could Not Move Nor Eat Bread.