Paradox

I know you love me better, cold—
Strange as the pyramids of old,
Responselessly;
But I am frail, am spent and weak
With surging torrents that bespeak
A living fire!
So, like a veil, my poor disguise
Is draped to save me from your eyes’
Deep challenges.
Fain would I fling this robe aside
And from you, in your bosom hide
Eternally!
Alas!
You love me better cold,
Like frozen pyramids of old,
Unyieldingly!

This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on December 11, 2021, by the Academy of American Poets.

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“Paradox” appeared in The Messenger vol. VI, no. 7 (July, 1924).