The One Whose Reproach I Cannot Evade
She sits in her glass garden
and awaits the guests -
The sailor with the blue tangerines
the fish clothed in languages
the dolphin with a revolver in its teeth.
Dusk enters from stage left:
its voice falls like dew on the arbor.
sway in the catalpa tree.
What is it she hopes to catch in her net
of love? Petals? Conch-shells?
The night-moth? She does not speak.
Tonight, I tell her, no one comes;
you wait in vain.
Yet at eight precisely
the moon opens its theatric doors,
an arm rises from the fountain,
the music box, face...