At the Theatre
I was bored with looking at the stage,
and raised my eyes towards the boxes.
In a box I saw you,
strangely beautiful, corruptly youthful.
And what I had been told about you
in the afternoon came back to me at once,
aroused my mind and body.
And while I gazed in fascination at
your weary beauty and your weary youth,
at your fastidious attire,
I pictured you, imagined you
the way they’d told me of you in the afternoon.
