Imaginary Love

November 9, 2013

Her body a graceful flow of light in the forest,
she lets the winter choose her winter clothes.
You stop, but when you try to duplicate
her movements, she shows you that it was you
who was in motion, not her silent poise:
We simply fear the winter night in different ways.

All love is from necessity, and from
this necessity, a spark, a simple fire grows.
To you it looks like the trees are on fire,
but this is your imaginary love—
a concupiscence in the closet,
a coupling in a cupboard—not her dreams.
You have to burn the old poem in your heart,
you think, before a new one can be born.

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One Response to “Imaginary Love”

  1. Anna Mark Says:

    I’ve been writing and thinking about Imaginary Love, too, and am enjoying Wallace Stevens’ poem, Final Soliloquy of the Interior Paramour. I will remember the phrases, “concupiscence in the closet,” and “coupling in the cupboard,” but especially, “You have to burn the old poem in your heart, you think, before a new one can be born.” I enjoyed this poem very much.


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