Contemptuous eyes, do not leave me
For purple dreams at midnight
Swimming under silver sheets;
My wants are quaint at best,
Yes, to make tired love against
Falling dusk, draped in fading yellow light,
Chamomile curtains flitting along
Cracked saffron walls, one dog
Baying in the blue distance,
Another's ears stiffening in reply.
Sneering mouth, do not leave me
For bitter ale, rolling heavy, soft as
Silence twixt deep sea fishes at rest;
My needs are rough at best,
Yes, to taste resolve and savory truth
On cold beach sands, your gentle hands,
Fleeting as blossoms in winter.
Stonewalled heart, do not leave me
For siren space, open doors to rooms
Of comfortable chairs, melting eyes;
My love is old at best,
Yes, and will not die today
For want of caress or care, largesse or fear
Of loss--born of lips on empty streets,
Words to fill your books until they burn.
