Nothing but blackness aboveAnd nothing that moves but the cars...God, if you wish for our love,Fling us a handful of stars
Ivory and Rose
Here in this moonlit room, I watch you slip
One shoulder from your dress and turn to me;
A polished statue, flushing to the tip
Of marble fingers gradually.
And, like a ripe moon out of flimsy clouds,
Blossoms the shining fulness of your breast.
These curves conceal, this dear perfection shrouds
A soft, miraculous nest.
Your ivory body pulses as the white
Flesh catches flame and rosy tremblings move
Over this sanctuary of delight,
The last asylum of our love.
My sweetheart has beneficent arms
So full of tenderness and fire,
They almost cheat her other charms
The way they rouse and still desire.
My sweetheart has the kindest breast,
Two heavens with each a single star;
They give me everything but rest,
So strange these rosy pillows are.
My sweetheart has the hungriest lips
They seek and press unsparingly;
They probe until she almost slips
Among her kisses into me.
My sweetheart’s body is a cry,
A poignant and resistless call;
It almost makes me wonder why
She hasn’t any mind at all.
We lay together in the sultry night.
A feeble light
From some invisible street-lamp crept
Into the corner where you slept;
Fingered your cheeks, flew softly round your hair,
Then dipped in the sweet valley of your breasts
And fluttered, like a bird between two nests,
Till it lay quiet there.
My eyes were closing and I may have dreamed--
At least it seemed
That you and I
Had ceased to be but were somehow
As earth and sky....
The night grew closer still, and now
Heat-lightnings played between us and warm thrills
Ran through the cool sides of the trembling hills.
Then darkness and a tension in the black
Hush like a breath held back;
A rippling through the ground, a windless breeze
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And her hidden bugles up the street.
Spring -- and the sweet
Laughter of winds at the crossing;
Laughter of birds and a fountain tossing
Its hair in abandoned ecstasies.
Laughter of trees.
Laughter of shop-girls that giggle and blush;
Laugh of the tug-boat's impertinent fife.
Laughter followed by a trembling hush --
Laughter of love, scarce whispered aloud.
Then, stilled by no sacredness or strife,
Laughter that leaps from the crowd;
Seizing the world in a rush.
Laughter of life...
Earth takes deep breaths like a man who had feared he might smother,
Filling his lungs before bursting into a shout....
Windows are opened -- curtains flying out;
Over the wash-lines women call to each other.
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