. I wish to live on the white page, Cumulus as cloud, be all puffy, Pure in new world without guile, My thin body as bounty, cloud eyed Sky of unsullied page, true kingdom Of imagination, without euphemism, Nor malice, but truth, cleanest light, Where a child's drawings are welcome Always, waiting to be rainbow crayoned, Coloured sheen as the dawn appearing At blackest moons' end, sheet of seraphim Created, dreamt of wood and earth and sun.