He said that he had hurt himself on a wall or that he had fallen.
But there was probably another reason
For the wounded and bandaged shoulder.
With a somewhat abrupt movement,
To bring down from a shelf some
Photographs that he wanted to see closely,
The bandage was untied and a little blood ran.
I bandaged the shoulder again, and while bandaging it
I was somewhat slow; because it did not hurt,
And I liked to look at the blood. That
Blood was a part of my love.
When he had left, I found in front of the chair,
A bloody rag, from the bandages,
A rag that looked in belonged in garbage;
Which I brought up to my lips,
And which I held there for a long time
The blood of love on my lips.