THE ENAMEL GIRL
Fearful of beauty, I always wentTimidly indifferent:
Dainty, hesitant, taking inJust what was tiniest and thin;
Careful not to careFor burning beauty in blue air;
Wanting what my hand could touch—That not too much;
Looking not to left nor rightOn a honey-silent night;
Fond of arts and trinkets, ifImperishable and stiff
They never played me false, nor fellInto fine dust. They lasted well.
They lasted till you came, and thenWhen you went, sufficed again.
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