Express Train

Brown. Brandy-brown. Leaf-brown. Russet. Malayan yellow. Express train Berlin-Trelleborg and the Baltic resorts. Flesh that went naked. Tanned unto the mouth by the sea. Deeply ripened for Grecian joys. How far along the summer, in sickle-submissiveness! Penultimate day of the ninth month! Parched with stubble and the last corn-shocks. Unfurlings, blood, fatigue, deranged by dahlia-nearness. Man-brown jumps on woman-brown. A woman is something for a night. And if you enjoyed it, then the next one too! O! And then the return to one’s own care. The not-speaking! The urges! A woman is something with a smell. Ineffable! To die for! Mignonette. Shepherd, sea, and South. On every declivity a bliss. Woman-brown drapes itself on man-brown: Hold me! I’m falling! My neck is so weary. Oh, the sweet last fevered scent from the gardens.