IV

8 0 00

IV

I love you more than Death: your mournful head,

Your shrouding hair, and your unfathom’d eyes,

And your white body beautiful, alas,

Priestess and victim in love’s holy mass⁠ ⁠…

Your flesh that loves, and loving ever dies⁠ ⁠…

I could not love you more if you were dead.