Women Don’t Just Walk

 

Women don’t just walk;
their walking is entwining,
and better still
where sea and sun
are teachers of form,

a form rhythm-trimmed,
tuned to cras amet
qui numquam amavit,
quique amavit cras amet—

let the one love tomorrow
who has never loved,
and let the one who has loved
love tomorrow—not less.

To remain silent
would be to sin
against this Muse,

and Apollo himself
would leave me
without a word
in his train.