As if enacting a ceremonial rite,
Speaking the words of some charm, arching in comples
Antics of magic, as if we discovered delight
In the rigid act itself, ten times each vexed
The other, hiding in many scales or white
Gossamer inviolate the secret naked sex,
Till the body of each lay to the other bared.
Ah, the long-hidden, familiar! e bore the shape
Held for ten years in my heart. I stared
At the old sin I had sealed from sight, agape
With love or terror. I remembered to kill. As he reared,
His approach held high, I caught up a switch to whip
"My lady, love what I am. Love is what I am,"
Coiling, he kissed me. The rising day paled
At the windows, yet we did not rise, but came
Out of our sin. For neither one had failed
The other, nor ever would, loving the same,
Each to the other known that love unveiled.
THE END