What Else is There?

Now perhaps there may be more
More than hazy light that shines through dirty glass
Smudging the walls with pallid yellow strokes -
There may be more, there may be more,
More than the hollow faces that you pass;
There may be more to model and destroy,
And more than all the wrinkles on your face
That even toothy smiles can't employ.
More for them and more for you,
And then more for ten thousand looks of longing,
And for ten thousand questions of belonging
When there's nothing else for you to do.