Lola Ridge

Nocturne

Indigo bulb of darkness
 Punctured by needle lights
 Through a fissure of brick canyon shutting out stars,
 And a sliver of moon
 Spigoting two high windows over the West river….
 Boy, I met to-night,
 Your eyes are two red-glowing arcs shifting with my vision….
 They reflect as in a fading proof
 The deadened eyes of a woman,
 And your shed virginity,
 Light as the withered pod of a sweet pea,
 Moist and fragrant
 Blows against my soul.
 What are you to me, boy,
 That I, who have passed so many lights,
 Should carry your eyes
 Like swinging lanterns?
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