I look at the swaling sunset
And wish I could go also
Through the red doors beyond the black-purple bar.
I wish that I could go
Through the red doors where I could put off My shame like shoes on the porch,
My pain like garments,
And leave my flesh discarded lying Like luggage of some departed traveller
Gone one knows not where.
Then I would turn round,
And seeing my cast-off body lying like lumber, I would laugh with joy. ~