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I had to walk by you
And feign indifference;
That was hardly the time or place--
The spur of the moment, the public arena--
To make a move.
But then I must ask: When is it proper?
Where can we rejoice and be at ease,
And laugh, and sip our sorghum-laced philters?
The ecstasy of the unexpected,
Change meetings on corners or under a bower--
Dispelled, when serendipity's scuttled,
When predisposition's the solemn rule.
Give me the clear light of day and a signal,
Give me the blankest of nights and a kiss,
Hold me in spidery arms and distract me,
Corset me up in the webs of your love.