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The claw protective flung
About her shoulders? haven,
Decrees nor you nor I shall touch
His starveling heaven;
Her stars low sockets hold,
Thin lips her hollow,
Pale tongue through banks of teeth winds where
His love must follow.
Compulsion rears no voice;
In this safe posture
She and her jig-saw man make one
No green imposture;
Love?s animals, though light
Against their barest tender
Mouths show indifferent flint set to
Indifferent tinder.
And yet no haloes of
Good-byes are spread like dawn
Above her known metropolis,
No moon falls down -
Their paper fingers scorch
Then crinkle, it is still
The same excuse of fire which tempts
Ashes to steal
Their winking heat again:
This is his own version
Of how his others love; a mouse
She smiles, and proves herself his vision.
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