[The lovers, Renee Magritte, 1923]
The give of longing plow to deep a cave sang blessed
calls to ancient fields. Here was a man.
Here too was that of woman known, known, fetal tall and gazing.
Sabred cling of blood to tendriled soul of her and soul of him as clung.
A forest rash flushed earth in twines around
the two and birth and death and life belaid.