Oysters

Pluck the wens and boil them dry Bitter dust to taste Slice the mend so the humours fly Sweetly hung display Cross the heart and pierce the eye Bright lit candle still Shuck the shell and cast aside Yours to bloody lips fulfilled On hunched back In dark of night escaped Scraped the tongue of molted wax To coat the armours male Above the gap, the two as none Below the sunken sails In desperate lunge he struck it down And in my hands it lay The whitest gloves to present yours With tightened cork I resent mine Pure of heart to collapse forth In sickly wealth to elapse thine On hunched back In dark of night escaped Scraped the tongue of molted wax To coat the armours male Above the gap, the two as none Below the sunken sails In desperate lunge he struck it down And in my hands it lay The whitest gloves to present yours With tightened cork I resent mine Pure of heart to collapse forth In sickly wealth to elapse thine