Sheer-
ly
for the sake
of height—I built
myself
then climbed a shelf
of pale
and selfish white
ivory one night—and just
stayed
perfectly
steady
still
mumbling toward morning
over and
over
again—something
unique
like
how—all of the
best saints
of old
hard days—were all so
ardent-
ly—
racked
with guilt.
