It is not your face to emerge through the door, nor
your voice yet to stricken my day with its toll,
and, till then, not to you to whom I offer
my animal semblance of song, my howl,
bearing not the matter of its lament
to magnify, the fact of its master's tongue---
therefore I pause here, dumb and terrified,
though you still seem a dreamy proximity,
knowing tomorrow would wake me
in fire, if you deigned enter my day.
