On a Grey Thread/Relinquishment
Relinquishment
Go her way, her quiet, quiet way,Her way is best for one so wistful-tired.My three-months' lover, go with your world-sick heart,Your love-bruised flesh. I am no sanctuary.
This hot mouth, these ardent, out-reaching arms,This hollow between my breasts, these hungry limbs,They are a cradle, a cradle of living flame;No haven for you, saddening after peace.
I am not certain, no, nor soothing-safe.Mine is the shifting, perilous way of life.Pitiless, ever-changing, hazardous,My love insatiate and mutable.
Go her way, her quiet, well-path'd way,Sit by her hearth-fire; let her keep you safe.Mine the unharbored heart, the uncharted passions;Mine, at the end a more than common peace.