We Who Speak with Inflections of Desire

And so many of us forget ourselves

We forget at any given time nearly

All our beliefs remain hidden waiting

To become explicit in our judgments 

In our assents in our avowals that

Something should be such and such  

So many of us forget that it is we

Who are the great forgetters that

We mastered lucidly this art and thus
Banished ourselves to vast and strange

Domains these frontiers of illimitable pity

Where yellow cities rise in yellow deserts

Where we see horror in white sunsets and

Moonless dawns light our tepid dreams