The Hamlet Project

How possible is this, really?
To push back into the corners the rose-colored blush of feeling,
The heat and the quickened pulse –
Is it possible to cram it back?
Pack it in
Like soft silver into a hole hollowed out by a dentist and his drill
Layer after layer
Pressed into the sides
And leveled off at the bottom?
Put something on top of desire, fold winter coats and woolen blankets over it,
Weigh it down with old photo albums and out of date encyclopedias and it will
still find its way out
Or else it will eat through what contains it
Like moths, or mold or decay
Clawing its way free.