Love–Love thundering, love underlined
Declares itself no louder than your whisper
Whispered in a moment unrefined
Until my beaten heart is a burning blister–
Along with other parts best left undefined.
The small things you say to me at midnight
When the drapes are drawn and shutters tight
(And day a rumor of remembered sight)–
Those things you say become my private light
And blaze behind my eyes in sheer delight.
Although small and quiet as two bugs
Sitting aslant a ruby leaf in spring,
Our love’s not less that chummily hugs
And waits till dark to say the wildest things.