by: Donald Evans (1884-1921)
- Y darling,
you write me charming letters from your bed,
- They caress me, and the darkness covers us,
- And your luminous whispers are in my ear,
- You call me, and I come to you as I read,
- Eager to give you my hands,
- And be lost upon your breast.
- But often next day when I re-read a letter I dream,
- I wonder, was not your husband, while you wrote it
- In the next room rising from his bath,
- And sprinkling rice powder over himself
- Making ready to come to you?
- Were not perhaps the words you wrote
- Your torch to set yourself in flames?
- Did not the last Echoes
- Of your call to your lover
- Help to sweep you not too passively
- To accustomed clamorous arms?
POEMS BY DONALD EVANS
"Infidelities" is reprinted
from Poetica Erotica. Ed. T.R. Smith. New York: Crown