At Baia

Hymen (1921)

I should have thoughtin a dream you would have broughtsome lovely, perilous thing,orchids piled in a great sheath,as who would say (in a dream)I send you this,who left the blue veinsof your throat unkissed.

Why was it that your hands(that never took mine)your hands that I could seedrift over the orchid headsso carefully,your hands, so fragile, sure to liftso gently, the fragile flower stuffÐah, ah, how was it

You never sent (in a dream)the very form, the very scent,not heavy, not sensuous,but perilousÐperilousÐof orchids, piled in a great sheath,and folded underneath on a bright scrollsome word:

Flower sent to flower;for white hands, the lesser white,less lovely of flower leaf,

or

Lover to lover, no kiss,no touch, but forever and ever this.

from Hymen (1921)