I want to paint you long poems full of fire,
you who I do not know.
         
Now my mind is tested with love which
twists and wavers from side to side and which
some day soon you may see...
I want you to cascade 
through ten thousand rainbows with me 
and dredge mountains from the sea:
you who I now begin to know.
         
But emotion is pent up inside,
too scared of dying again to live
and meanwhile I must endure your
red-copper hair screaming like a water-baby.
Black eyes stare from my ceiling...
you who I now [bad word] know.
         
Now I cannot see too clearly
and already my trellis stands bare.
How can I break free of these overclinging arms 
which entwine and enfold me 
and reach to the clear blue sea?
I want you to know, but how can I tell you? 
I want you to see but my own eyes are blind.
         
The Octopus now enfolds me,
I know you too well...