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Leaves of Grass (1867)
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TRICKLE, DROPS.
| TRICKLE, drops! my blue veins leaving! |
| O drops of me! trickle, slow drops, |
| Candid, from me falling—drip, bleeding drops, |
From wounds made to free you whence you were
prison'd,
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| From my face—from my forehead and lips, |
From my breast—from within where I was conceal'd
—press forth, red drops—confession drops;
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Stain every page—stain every song I sing, every word
I say, bloody drops;
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| 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;
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| Let it all be seen in your light, blushing drops. |
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