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!"