Blindfolded visitor

Will we take tea, polite strangers

(And time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions)

You the proper host, laying out pleasures and national treasures

For my delectation?

(Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky)

Will we drive across the countryside in a hired car

my hand hovering over the controls

(And indeed there will be time To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”)

Yours hovering indeterminately near my knee?

(And should I then presume? And how should I begin?)

Or will we meet and greet like old friends,

(When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall, Then how should I begin…?)

who know the montage of each others bodies

(Is it perfume from a dress That makes me so digress?)

(Oh how my cunt clenches at the thought of your recumbent cock)

(Would it have been worth while, After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—And this, and so much more?—)

through the seductive blindfold of erotic tales?

(To lead you to an overwhelming question …Oh, do not ask, “What is it?” Let us go and make our visit.)




Extracts from The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot Source: Poetry

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