Desire by Boris Karloff

Come, come here,

desire.

Why have you thus

bared your chest

and you caress

just anyone

with hasty glances

and don’t want to doze

or slumber

or sleep

any more

and only want

to keep your eyes

wide open?

There breathes

the basic

intercourse

that makes the world

better and better—

the radiant commandment

that makes ancient worlds

younger.

Come, come here,

desire,

with all your seven fingers.