rocking from its sour sound, out into
the crowded street, letting your spectacles fall
and your hair net tangle .as you stop passers-by
to mumble your guilty love while your ears die.
THE LOVEMAKER
I see you in her bed,
Dark rootless epicene,
Where a lone ghost
is
laid
And other ghosts convene;
And hear you moan at last
Your pleasure in the deep
Haven of her who kissed
Your blind mouth into sleep.
Anne Sexton
But the body, once enthralled,
Wakes in the chains it wore,
Dishevelled, stupid, cold,
And famished as before-
And hears its paragon
Breathe in the ghostly air,
Anonymous carrion,
Ravished by despair.
Lovemaker, I have felt
Your hungers in my heart,
But lacked your constant fault
And something of your art,
