Amy Lowell

See! He trails his toes

Through the long streaks of moonlight,

And the nails of his fingers glitter:

They claw and flash among the tree-tops.

His lips suck at my open window,

And his breath creeps about my body

And lies in pools under my knees.

I can see his mouth sway and wobble,

Sticking itself against the window-jambs,

But the moonlight is bright on the floor,

Without a shadow.

Hark! a hare is strangling in the forest,

And the wind tears a shutter from the wall.

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