Lionel Willis
The possessed
Another woman shares your skin. She smiles
At me sometimes when you've good cause to frown,
Purloins your frankness to dress up her wiles,
And, dancing, wears your body like a gown.
She's always thanking me, although I doubt
The things I have to give you do much good,
And telling me I'm wonderful without
Much evidence or even likelihood.
Sometimes at night I just sit up to watch
Her silently and tenderly relent
And let you down to oneness notch by notch
Until you turn away indifferent
To face whatever spectre must be faced
When love's an act and all the world's a waste.
Page(s) 30
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