A grey light figures
The outline of two lovers.
The morning is come.
*
They sleep yet, restive,
Their breath shallow, mouths open,
Enclosed in their arms,
*
As of one substance :
The fixity of the light
Is violent, grey.
*
Over the bed stands old
Hephæstus—smokeblack, silent—
Wielding his blowtorch.
Friday 4 November 2011
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