| |
| CLOSE your eyes, my love, let me make you blind; | |
| They have taught you to see | |
| Only a mean arithmetic on the face of things, | |
| A cunning algebra in the faces of men, | |
| And God like geometry | |
| Completing his circles, and working cleverly. | |
| |
| I’ll kiss you over the eyes till I kiss you blind; | |
| If I can—if any one could. | |
| Then perhaps in the dark you’ll have got what you want to find. | |
| You’ve discovered so many bits, with your clever eyes, | |
| And I’m a kaleidoscope | |
| That you shake and shake, and yet it won’t come to your mind. | |
| Now stop carping at me.—But God, how I hate you! | |
| Do you fear I shall swindle you? | |
| Do you think if you take me as I am, that that will abate you | |
| Somehow?—so sad, so intrinsic, so spiritual, yet so cautious, you | |
| Must have me all in your will and your consciousness— | |
| I hate you. | |
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