One says yes if it hears no,
And the other never speaks.
One says green if it hears pink,
One says grass if it hears sky,
One says gray if it hears white,
And the other never speaks.
From the other comes a silence
Filled with half-known, half-sown things,
With songs and letters, bells and brass,
With poetry, with gods and ghosts—
And also sultry, lustful urges
Feminine and masculine and
Yang and yin and all that lies between.
I have two creatures in my head—
Only one can have my mouth,
So the other never speaks.
Each has one ear, one eye, one hand,
One foot and leg, and half my ribs—
But only one can have my heart,
And that one never speaks.
