An anxious dress
Like a spring crocus:
Violently violet
Inside and outside.
Its cold silk,
Snake-like and pure,
Born, endured
Like a straightjacket
By my hot sinful
Skin.
Both
Smell of myself;
That is, of life
With death inside.
My soul, living bird,
Can you rend them?
Carolina Ilica, from **The Short Poem of My Long Life