These others were a preparation for this now, which is perfectly clear.
Everything comes up like a wave, Well, there. I said it. Everything.
What could it be if it weren't a fresh vibration. Along any shore we go.
Here comes every old poet all over again. They prickle on my skin.
They set the tiny hairs like a chill. Well, there. I said it. Frightening.
They were practicing in a draft and caught it. And spread it. Here.
I wanted the whole world in it, so I took it all out. Perverse. I know.
These others caught me going away. And I'd have to be clear about it.
That suddenly everywhere has no voice. It was trying. No voice for it.