We met at night and our love
Grew in the eves—
And then, I had to leave her.
It was like a new emotion,
An uncovered degree of cold
And far winds moaned, shuffled air
Became scarce and mythic as aquifers
Under desert, like no bird had ever flown
Nor sung.  I longed to see her in dream
Her burning red hair, like my steadfast
Flame— alight, a swoon of dance
Of newness and of peace,
In the death of night.