I saw the most beautiful girl today:
that moment seemed trapped within a silence.
She sat across from me.
She had a comely face,
slightly masculine;
her lips, full
seemed pluck'd for the planting
of a kiss.
I didn't ask of her name.
And now she seems blown to the wind.
I saw another;
she pushed a bicycle and smiled at me.
She wore glasses, and seemed
the pinnacle of perfection:
shy and searching,
bold and shell-bound.
Marriage would be too good a cage
for so perfect a girl.
O! to either I would be so true!
To the latter I would crackle as logs,
warm her feet, ember-kiss her eyes.
They will make men happy.
They will make men mad.
They will remind them that beauty is fleeting;
and that paranoia will always haunt
the full-hearted flaunt
of their love.
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