A woman asked me
How it felt to see my lover again
And I found myself
Most inconveniently out of words, darling
My mouth opened
I almost said
Being with him
Is like Summer rain
In the Sahara
Or the first sip of water taken
By a thirsting man
Like the cool feeling of grass beneath bare feet
In the spring
The smell of blooming Wisteria  
Like a bonfire in Autumn
The sound of leaves falling from the trees
It is like the first snow of winter
Blanketing the world in white
Or the the steam from a cup of tea
But instead I smiled
And closed my eyes

"It was everything I needed it to be."


.

He was my Angle,
I thought he had come to save me.
But his wangs were not made of fathers but of bones and his heart of cole. Of a fire that died out long ago, now with no warmth left to give. What happened to make him this way, this Angel of Bitterness.

271

A solemn thing—it was—I said—
A woman—white—to be—
And wear—if God should count me fit—
Her blameless mystery—

A hallowed thing—to drop a life
Into the purple well—
Too plummetless—that it return—
Eternity—until—

I pondered how the bliss would look—
And would it feel as big—
When I could take it in my hand—
As hovering—seen—through fog—

And then—the size of this “small” life—
The Sages—call it small—
Swelled—like Horizons—in my vest—
And I sneered—softly—”small”!