IV

5 0 00

IV

“My flesh is turned to stone. I

have endured my summer. The flurry

of falling petals is ended. Lay

the finger upon this granite. I was

well desired and fully caressed

by many lovers but my flesh

withered swiftly and my heart was

never satisfied. Lay your hands

upon the granite as a lover lays his

hand upon the thigh and upon the

round breasts of her who is

beside him, for now I will not wither,

now I have thrown off secrecy, now

I have walked naked into the street,

now I have scattered my heavy beauty

in the open market.

Here I am with head high and a

burning heart eagerly awaiting

your caresses, whoever it may be,

for granite is not harder than

my love is open, runs loose among you!

I arrogant against death! I

who have endured! I worn against

the years!”