I would have you dead , I would have this summer over ,
Dear, I would have you dead ;
I would have these days picked freshly , gently spread
Petal by scented petal , parched in the sun ,
Stored in a jar to conjure spring for ever …
These nights stripped from our bed ,
Washed , bleached , laid by in homely lavender ,
To wrap my tired mind when all is done .
How can I weave your immortality
While still by living you distract my hand
Mock the neat web I planned ,
Break warp and pucker woof thus shamelessly ?
If you would live to all eternity ,
Now is the time to die .
Thus with paradox , a pleasant sigh ,
I bolster my conceit — and there you stand ,
Laughing , with no reply .
[ 3 crossed out and 4 written above (!) sic ]
14 May 1953