Dropped within me,
my helpless heart;

my head’s vile hiss,
of causeless wrongs;

my holiest dreams,
yielding...
sadly depart;

no sign or knock,
to fuel their songs.

"if light should flower:or laughing sparkle from
the shut house(around and around
which a poor wind will roam" - supposing i dreamed this)... (IX) - by e.e. cummings