Tonight I can write the saddest lines;
the sisters, two rural sisters, Damned
Women.
[after long silence]
From pent-up, aching rivers to the quiet glades of Eden,
from walking in a meadow green, inseparable, to ecstasy
under the waterfall. Two lips cherry-ripe, two lips echo
the kiss. My pretty rose tree, She came to me
in a gondola, the sun rising under the willow-shades. It was
like
the
touch
of
rain.
The definition of love.
Keep your eyes open when you kiss, she tells her love
while half-asleep. I abide and abide and
abide, until
it may not always be so…
A last confession; the imperfect
enjoyment, the way man and wife
remember. Drunk
as drunk as turpentine. Come, live with me and be
my love. Her reply:
the night has a thousand eyes, quick
and bitter. Talking in bed is the funeral,
not the slice of wedding cake. First love-
love without hope- is a thunderstorm
in town. Damned women
from modern love.
The question- an argument- sick
love- sudden light- the ruined maid- she gave
the kiss- She did not- no use to remain. Seduced girl.
Daybreak.
[after long silence]
I knew a woman in love
when I was one-and-twenty. Dread, dead.
Still, never such love is to remain.
When we two parted, a thousand years an old flame, you said.
Remember? Then two lips, cherry-ripe, a
valediction.
A pity. We were
such a good invention.
