I can’t guarantee

my analysis tomorrow.Oh, Sigmund.

Your dreams rise unattended,and I haven’t always swallowedmy words.

When no one was looking,I’ve handed them to the dogs.

I understand partnership as wholeness,the strangeness of submission.

Show me a mind made up.

Show me a mind—the road that doesn’tskip or dash—

How do you climax?How do you come back?