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READ them? Strangle that sick cry?
Christ God, no!
Shut the box. Lock the lid.
You’ll be safer—so.
Could you read one crookéd word
Scrawled so long ago,
Love would rise before your face
And blind you, like a blow.
Close it! Quickly! For I caught,
In a childish hand,
Something that she never thought
I should understand.
So I crouch. And shall our God
Prove Him baser yet,
He who filled her eyes with light
Quite renounce His debt,
Give her worlds to love, and then—
Ere the sun be set,
Strike her down and coffin all?
Christ, shall He forget?
Close it! Quickly! For I caught,
In a childish hand,
Something that she never thought
I should understand.
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