Classic Poem

You have inserted under my heart
That sharp and sinister grain of sand
Which, by some salty valvular art,
Shall one day glitter on your hand.

The word now stinging flesh and bone
Must patiently achieve at length
Temper more intricate than stone,
Cohesion of a lovelier strength.

Clouded with nacre, crust on crust,
Drop by drop, till out of this pain
The moon, trapped in a shell of dust,
Breaks through — letting the wound remain!