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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!"