A Poem to Detain Me

I bound to my temples a box of flesh
Filled with holy letters & captured poems -
& I am probably wrong

With thongs of time bind to your body
The heart of a man

I'm heading for another border
My scrapbooks stuffed with murder
& a crazy rumour of glory
Whispering through the wires of my spine

Lucky Cain wandered for one crime
& received on his forehead a sign
Which proved in every mirror
Who was the slayer and who was the slain
Blood still is vocal
The ground is still a home
But now the voice accuses so many names
I do not know which name is mine

O you will be listening for music
While I turn on a spit of song
You will increase your love
While I experiment with pain
While others amputate their limbs
You will master a ballet-step
Away from voluntary gangrene
Believe nothing of me
Except that I felt your beauty
More closely than my own
I did not see any cities burn
I heard no promises of endless night
I felt your beauty more closely than my own
Promise me that I will return