Poet: Antony Dunn
He’d like to unfold her from that lab-coat
and see what kind of creature she’d become;
chalk up a finger on a butterfly-wing
and lay out his great design on white silk –
a dress for her to wear weightlessness in;
or dust his fingerprints across her skin
in kohl and carmine; or see, as she moves
through the store-room, the cases fly open
and every last butterfly unhook itself
and throw itself into the air, and stay.
He’d like the creature cocooned in his chest
to stop turning over – to burst from his mouth
on unspeakable wings. He’d like to say something
that she’d understand, but can’t pin it down.
安东尼（Antony Dunn) 原作