You will come, you are thinking of me, you will come, you will run to me on your thirteen full legs and on all your empty legs which beat the air with the swaying of your arms, a multitude of arms that will seek to entwine themselves around me kneeling between your legs and your arms to embrace you without fear that my locomotives will keep you from coming to me, and I am yours and I am before you to stop you, to give you all the stars of the sky in a kiss on your eyes all the world’s kisses in a star on your mouth. Yours in a torch.