Your body was a sacred cell always, <br />A jewel that grew dull in garish light, <br />An opal which beneath my wondering gaze <br />Gleamed rarely, softly throbbing in the night. <br /> <br />I touched your flesh with reverential hands, <br />For you were sweet and timid like a flower <br />That blossoms out of barren tropic sands, <br />Shedding its perfume in one golden hour. <br /> <br />You yielded to my touch with gentle grace, <br />And though my passion was a mighty wave <br />That buried you beneath its strong embrace, <br />You were yet happy in the moment's grave. <br /> <br />Still more than passion consummate to me, <br />More than the nuptials immemorial sung, <br />Was the warm thrill that melted me to see <br />Your clean brown body, beautiful and young; <br /> <br />The joy in your maturity at length, <br />The peace that filled my soul like cooling wine, <br />When you responded to my tender strength, <br />And pressed your heart exulting into mine. <br /> <br />How shall I with such memories of you <br />In coarser forms of love fruition find? <br />No, I would rather like a ghost pursue <br />The fairy phantoms of my lonely mind.<br /><br />Claude McKay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/memorial/
