When you are tired of ogling moltenly, Your undertones explosively confess. A shop-girl coughing over her cigarette Expresses the burlesque of your distress. Take your cocaine. It leaves a blistering stain, But phantom diamonds are immune from greed. You pluck them from the buttons of your vest, Wildly apologising for your need. Take more. Redress the thinness of your neck With diamonds; entertain them with your breast; Cajole them on the floor with fingertips That cannot pause, dipped in a demon’s zest. If you had not relented to a man Who meddled with your face and stole your clothes, Your shrill creative pleasures might be still Incarcerated in the usual pose. Hysteria shot its fist against your face One day, and left the blood-spot of your mouth, But when the morning strikes you there will be More than hysteria in your answering shout. V Laughter is a skeleton’s applause: Grief sells increase to sterility: Happiness protects its subtle flaws. These three significances make The part of you that men can see, As you recline upon this bed, Your hand defending one bare knee, Your shoulders trapped upon the quilt. But under the warm sophistry That turns your flesh, another form Abstractly bellicose and free Attacks the answer of your blood. Freedom is the lowest note Of slavery, and slavery The lowest freedom--you can feel The charm of your servility. True, you were once a chamber-maid Who won a thief and spoke to grief, And now your limbs have numbly strayed. Are these not harmless travesties? VI Snobs have pockets into which They crowd too many trinkets. You feel this, talking to the rich And lightly bulging mountebank. Untie the knots that close your bag And tempt him with a creed or need. Be as loquacious as a hag Who loves the details of her wares. There is a relish when you speak To one who cannot understand: You celebrate upon a peak And prod his helpless effigy. This is an unimportant game To men evading holidays, But introspection becomes tame Unless it compliments itself. The lightly bulging mountebank Is but an interval in which You take your garments off and thank The privacy that he bestows. VII