Forever. And he said it must be so.
The woman, though. Her arms. And now her eyes,
Beating upon him, beautiful, imperious,
Not to be contradicted. And her lips.
Lest the unparted lips again deliver
What was so loud, so terrible—though heard
By him, by only him—he spoke of home.
Berrien—wasn’t she tired? And Berrien was.
So with no words they went.
Some dancers saw them,