you always were a strange girl now weren’t you?
like the midsummernights party we went to
where towards witching
being tired and hot of dancing
we slipped thro’ the frenchwindows
and arminarmed across the lawn
pausing at the artificial pond
lying liquidblack and limped
in the stricttempo air we kissed
when suddenly you began to tremble
and removing one lavender satin glove knelt
and slipped your hand into the slimy mirror
your face was sad as you brought forth
a switching twitching silver fish
which you lay at my feet
and as the quick tick of the grass
gave way to the slow flop of death
stillkneeling you said softly: ‘dont die little fish’
then you tookoff your other glove
and we lay sadly and we made love
as the dancers danced slowly
the fish stared coldly
and the moon admired its reflection
in the lilypetalled pond