Modern Love XXXIV: Madam Would Speak With Me

 Madam would speak with me.
 So, now it comes:
The Deluge or else Fire! She's well, she thanks
My husbandship.
 Our chain on silence clanks.

Time leers between, above his twiddling thumbs.

Am I quite well? Most excellent in health!
The journals, too, I diligently peruse.

Vesuvius is expected to give news:
Niagara is no noisier.
 By stealth
Our eyes dart scrutinizing snakes.
 She's glad
I'm happy, says her quivering under-lip.

"And are not you?" "How can I be?" "Take ship!
For happiness is somewhere to be had.
"
"Nowhere for me!" Her voice is barely heard.

I am not melted, and make no pretence.

With commonplace I freeze her, tongue and sense.

Niagara or Vesuvius is deferred.

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