Timidity in darkness, to make your absence into art
The smell of sunscreen on your dappled fair face
Your lithe body looming over the ledges of London
Swift-footed and full of so much light —

Garden of Eden with your groves of green apple
How you gouged out my stomach and filled me with shame!

But once we were two pilgrims near Primrose Hill,
Alone on a summer evening and my love not yet like licorice,
Cloying in my simple frocks.