Purification... Robert Graves...
'He numbed my heart, he stole away my truth,
He laid his hands on my body.
Never had I known ecstacy like that:
I could have flown with him to the world's end
And thought of you no more.'
'Wake dearest love, here in my own warm arms,
That was a nightmare only,
You kept the wall-side, leaving me the outer,
No demon slid between us to molest you.
This is a narrow bed.'
I would have brought her breakfast on a tray
But she seemed haunted still
By terror that in nine short months, maybe,
A demon's litter, twitching scaly tails
Would have from either breast.
And still she shuddered inconsolably
All day; out true love-magic
Dwindled and failed- 'He swore to take me
The round of Paris, on his midnight tours,
Fiddling for me to dance.'
Thus to have murdered love even in a dream
Called for purification;
And (as the Great Queen yearly did at Paphos)
Down to the sea she trod and in salt water
Renewed virginity.

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Live the Dream... Purification...
last updated on 12/9/97...
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