Sometimes the sky’s too bright

Sometimes the sky’s too bright,
Or has too many clouds or birds,
And far away’s too sharp a sun
To nourish thinking of him.
Why is my hand too blunt
To cut in front of me
My horrid images for me,
Of over-fruitful smiles,
The weightless touching of the lip
I wish to know
I cannot lift, but can,
The creature with the angel’s face
Who tells me hurt,
And sees my body go
Down into misery ?
No stopping. Put the smile
Where tears have come to dry.
The angel’s hurt is left;
His telling burns.

Sometimes a woman’s heart has salt,
Or too much blood ;
I tear her breast,
And see the blood is mine,
Flowing from her but mine,
And then I think
Perhaps the sky’s too bright;
And watch my hand,
But do not follow it,
And feel the pain it gives,
But do not ache.