How far behind those lips was born that half-formed smile?
Their parting holds a pledge, a door that’s held ajar.
With hesitating heart, I wonder who it’s for -
that enigmatic look that hovers, to beguile.
What strange imaginings of love, what treasures held
In caves beyond the petals of the damask rose
Where nectar is, and heavy scents, delights for those
That part the moistened lips in bliss - at last - to meld.
How deep the flecks of green in those grey seas, the eyes
That dare the man bewitched, be bold to venture in,
To sport with dolphins, hear the song of whales, to swim,
Perhaps to drown in time, in wild desires and sighs.
What oystered pearl, my Nereid, lies on your bed
Amid the swirl and silver glint of shoals that pass,
as do the ripples of your silken gown, alas,
when, with disdain you flounce away, and cut me dead?
|
