"I couldn't stand my love loving someone
Other than me; I can't unfasten the stays
Of my love, my burning for this anti-sun;
I can't for all my tide's longing...; O, the ways
Of Moonlight I remember when I let
The lambent seashore sigh of us rise sing
Your dirge of desire, Weaver; my wet
Body stroked by him, I loved, in the swaying
Concupiscence of rain, as my return; how
Could you know such sweetness? He lay me down and kissed
The slit that rings my thighs how could you know,
Weaver, hidden by morning, my summoned mist,
His entering how could you know the first time?...
Well, I'm not some schoolyard whore... he is mine..."