You’re jealous if I kiss this girl and that.
You think I should be constant to one mouth.
Little you know of my too quenchless drouth.
My sister, I keep faith with love, not lovers.
Life laid a flaming finger on my heart,
Gave me an electric golden thread,
Pointed to a pile of beads and said:
Link me one more perfect than the rest.
Love’s the thread, my sister, you a bead,
An ivory one, you are so delicate.
These first burned ash-grey—far too passionate.
Farther on the colors mount and sing.
When the last bead’s painted with the last design
And slipped upon the thread, I’ll tie it so,
Then smiling quietly, I’ll turn and go
While vain Life boasts her latest ornament.
— Elsa Gidlow
Lovely piece. Thanks for sharing.
I’m glad you enjoyed it! The author is a very interesting character, herself! I wasn’t familiar with her before posting it, but I did a bit of an internet dive after reading this. She wrote the first collection of openly lesbian poetry, supported three family member with mental illnesses, got investigated for being a “communist” during the Red Scare, and was friends with the first gay couple wed in CA.