Politicians came into my room last night,
big bears banging on very little drums,
asking for love. Hard as a rock in the wind,
my heart did not give, though their glad tune 
tugged and tugged, and I with so many feet 
wanting to dance. Sooner would the Himalayas 
waltz, the Alps break into tap, than I would 
rock and roll with these dank men. But then 
the music stopped. And then they turned to me
their awkwardness, strangely dear, and in
the shaggy darkness all perfumed, I saw
and felt for the first time the glow of their great, 
bad hearts. How savagely they held me then, 
​how gratefully I trembled in their arms.