Someone is carrying thoughts that feel like silver hail-stones knocking around inside her ribs. They are bright and hard, and she longs to let them out — to pour them, shining, over the person she addresses. But she feels blocked: her heart is shut, holding those thoughts tightly in place. The more they rattle inside, the more they torment her. So she calls out, almost desperately, for the beloved to come and open her heart. Only then, she imagines, will those thoughts stop hurting her and instead glitter in his hair. The mood is restless, charged with longing and frustration, but also vivid and intimate, as if emotional release and physical closeness are the same act.
Bullion — Summary
My thoughts Chink against my ribs And roll about like silver hail-stones. I should like to spill them out. And pour them, all shining, Over you.
But my heart is shut upon them And holds them straitly.
Come, You ! and open my heart ; That my thoughts torment me no longer. But glitter in your hair.