I know the woman has no soul, I know The woman has no possibilities Of soul or mind or heart, but merely is The masterpiece of flesh: well, be it so. It is her flesh that I adore; I go Thirsting afresh to drain her empty kiss; I know she cannot love: 'tis not for this I rush to her embraces like a foe. Tyrannously I crave, I crave alone, Her body, now a silent instrument, That at my touch shall wake and make for me The strains that I have dreamed of, and not known; Her perfect body, Earth's most eloquent Music, the divine human harmony. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE CHURCH-PORCH by GEORGE HERBERT SEAWEED by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW CITY OF ORGIES by WALT WHITMAN THE LITTLE ONES GREATNESS by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |