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                                                      A LOVE POEM?



Believe me, if I could say

I were truly, finally in love,

it would be with you,


curvaceous darling,

insidious dear,

with such an audacious mind

and spirit,

and a face


like the glow of Chinese lanterns

among cherry trees.


But I've lost all faith

in the meanings of final things,

eternal vows.


We could talk all night,

and have--a communal flow

of minds and moonlight moving


from naked arm to shoulder,

of the world's fate, of the past,

and even of God;


and I could imagine

we two in old age,

wrapped in the arms of decay,


tenderly, without touch,

without speech--all words

spoken, all spent--


but in the meantime,

as the man in the novel says,

"Take off your clothes!"



                           








                           A LOVE POEM?



                                                Believe me, if I could say

                                                I were truly, finally in love,

                                                it would be with you,


                                                curvaceous darling,

                                                insidious dear,

                                                with such an audacious mind

                                                and spirit,

                                                and a face


                                                like the glow of Chinese lanterns

                                                among cherry trees.


                                                But I've lost all faith

                                                in the meanings of final things,

                                                eternal vows.


We could talk all night,

and have--a communal flow

of minds and moonlight moving


from naked arm to shoulder,

of the world's fate, of the past,

and even of God;


and I could imagine

we two in old age,

wrapped in the arms of decay,


tenderly, without touch,

without speech--all words

spoken, all spent--


but in the meantime,

as the man in the novel says,

"Take off your clothes!"



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