He Said:
I know very well, goddess, she is not beautiful
As you are: could not be. She is a woman,
Mortal, subject to the chances . . .
You are immortal and will never change
And can make me immortal also . . .
Nevertheless I long . . . for the island
Where the grass dies and the seasons alter:
Where that one wears the sunlight for a while.
~ from Calypso's Island *
~ by Archibald MacLeish
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She Said:
Let's face it, I have been momentary.
A luxury. . . .
She is more than that. She is your have to have . . .
I give you back your heart.
I give you permission . . .
As for me, I am a watercolor.
I wash off.
~ from For My Lover, Returning To His Wife *
~ by Anne Sexton
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To read the above poems in their entirety
see my latest post:
He Said She Said
@ The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker
A literary blog of connection & coincidence;
custom & ceremony
* and click titles above
to hear the poets read their own work
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