A Form Of Women I have come far enough from where I was not before to have seen the things looking in at me from through the open door and have walked tonight by myself to see the moonlight and see it as trees and shapes more fearful because I feared what I did not know but have wanted to know. My facd is my own, I thought. But you have seen it turn into a thousand years. I watched you cry. I could not touch you. I wanted very much to touch you but could not. If it is dark when this is given to you, have care for its content when the moon shines. My face is my own. My hands are my own. My mouth is my own but I am not. Moon, moon, whn you leave me alone all the darkness is an utter blackness, a pit of fear, a stench, hands unreasonable never to touch. But I love you. Do you love me. What to say when you see me. Robert Creeley