The Noose

December, 1972

This is my own clear voice:Sweetheart, keep faith with me.A noose hangs from the rope;I do not bring blind hopeBut love in certainty.Choose, for you have no choice:Sweetheart, stand fast by me.Her BeautyLet me put on record for posterityThe uniqueness of her beauty:Her black eyes fixed unblinking on my own,Cascading hair, high breasts, firm nose,Soft mouth and dancer's toes.Which is, I grant, cautious concealmentOf a new Muse by the Immortals sentFor me to honor worthily--Her eyes brimming with...