O drops of me! trickle, slow drops,

Candid, from me falling — drip, bleeding drops.

From wounds made to free you whence you were prisoned,

From my face — from my forehead and lips,

From my breast — from within where I was concealed — Press forth, red drops — confession drops.

Stain every page — stain every song I sing, every word I say, bloody drops.

Let them know your scarlet heat — let them glisten.

Saturate them with yourself, all ashamed and wet.

Glow upon all I have written or shall write, bleeding drops.

Let it all be seen in your light, blushing drops.

1. Who is now reading this ?

2. May-be one is now reading this who knows some wrong-doing of my past life.

Or may-be a stranger is reading this who has secretly loved me,

Or may-be one who meets all my grand assumptions and egotisms with derision.

Or may-be one who is puzzled at me.