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Poppies in July

1 Little poppies, little hell flames,
  Do you do no harm?
  You flicker.  I cannot touch you.
  I put my hands among the flames.  Nothing burns
5 And it exhausts me to watch you
  Flickering like that, wrinkly and clear red, like the skin of a mouth.
  A mouth just bloodied.
  Little bloody skirts!
  There are fumes I cannot touch.
10 Where are your opiates, your nauseous capsules?
  If I could bleed, or sleep! -
  If my mouth could marry a hurt like that!
  Or your liquors seep to me, in this glass capsule,
  Dulling and stilling.
15 But colorless.  Colorless.