Epitaph of a Late Conversation

"I shall kiss your leaden-lidded eyes."


Sappho:

Lover, when I am dead,
will you clothe me in a winding-sheet,
to keep my feet from bleeding out
my resurrection?

Phaon:

Lovesick, when you first lie
in vault or mound at night
I'll steal in, to place my mouth
upon yours, and there insufflate
fresh life by rite, and possession,
-such a will have I.

Sappho:

Heartsick, when I've risen,
and you've so much as a little sigh,
might I, still occupy that space
as your wrying spectre?

Phaon:

Sweetheart, so you'd haunt me?
As a shape on my wall,
or in my bathroom mirror?
Would you still profess,
that you are most blessed,
when I've taken the turn,
and am only a spectre
of my old age?