nota a margine

There is that in me – I do know what it is – but I know it is in me.

Wrench’d and sweaty – calm and cool then my body becomes,
I sleep – I sleep long.

I do not know it – it is without name – it is a word unsaid,
It is not in any dictionary, utterance, symbol.

Something it swing on more than the earth I swing on,
To it creation is the fiend whose embracing awakes me.