SONG

I am jealous of the air

Lest it steal away the touch

Of his hands that loved so much

When they wandered in my hair,

And I dress my hair with care

                                  Lest  in combing I erase

The fondling touches he left there.

I shall love my daily face,

I shall love my hidden limbs,

For a night he found them fair;

I shall offer daily hymns,

Nightlong I shall offer prayer,

And be watchful of my hair

To guard his lightest touches there.

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