Static Electricity

The celebrations of her night began. She was as indolent as the fallen silk Nightdress that spumed upon the still divan.

She was the promise of the lesser flame Before the candle blossoms and grows quick, She was the relaxation of the foam

At quiet water, when the tide hangs pent, Poised for its full swell to the anxious shore. She was enchaining her own element

Until the music of the night might swim Upon her wholly like a pool of milk, Cool, animal. Until she in her dim

Half-motion through the sibilant half-dark Might cling, as to the hand a strip of silk Full-charged, might cling, waiting its sudden spark.