Truth and Beauty had a quarrel, so I've heard,
(my ear pressed to the keyhole of desire.)
I heard one say, "I saw you flirt with Liar
on the couch, where Lust had gorged himself,
and later, sated as he was, he stood and watched
you play the fool, while Liar played you false."
The other answered, "Love, I could not help myself,
for Liar took your form. I beg you to forgive me."

I often think of words like these, especially
when walking on the beach, where waves are clasping
hands together, whispering foamy words in
salted ears; or in the woods, where one pine
strokes another in the wind, and says,
"O my lover, yes my lover,
rub me that way one more time."