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.