I Pose

by Stella Benson

To-morrow I will throw this blind

Blind whiteness from my soul away,

And pluck this blackness from my mind,

And only leave the medium—grey.

To-morrow I will cry for gains

Upon the blue and brazen sky:

The precious venom in my veins

To-morrow will be parched and dry.

To-morrow it shall be my goal

To throw myself away from me,