Paper instructions:
I kissedyou, brideandlost, andwent homefromthatbourgeoissacrament, your cheek still tastingcold upon
my lipsthatgaveyou benison
with allthe swaggerthatthey knew- asloserssomehowlearnto do.
Yourweddingmademy eyes ache;soon the world would be worse off for one
moregoldenappledroppedto ground without the leastprotestingsound, andyou would windfalllie, andwe forget your shimmeron the tree.

Beautyis alwayswasted:if
notMignon’ssongsungtothedeaf, at all eventsto the unmoved.
A face like yours cannotbe loved long or seriouslyenough. Almost,we seemto holdit off.
II
Well, you aretougherthanI thought. Now whenthewashwithicehangstaut thismorningof St. Valentine,
I see you stripthe squeakingline,
your body weighed againstthe load, andallmy groanscan do no good.
Becauseyou arestillbeautiful, thoughsquaredandstiffenedby thepull of what ninewindy yearshavedone. You havethreedaughtersl,ost a son.
I seeallyourintelligence
flunginto thatunweariedstance