we are among the ruins
and could return to life again,
it was their natural atmosphere
not daunted by either art or ideal politics
out in the open world,
she could use her sexuality to have power over him,
her orgasm and her crisis
amazing, the profound
fulfilled before they knew promise
a vibrating thrill inside the body
and the soul she could not get rid of,
succumbed to the strange male power
a well bred social anarchy
one of the curious obsolete,
she went by without looking at them,
alone he was a lost thing
whole act took place in a vacuum,
why should they last
with layers of dissolution
like geological strata,
sideways, and downwards the light fell on him
he was burningly, poignantly grateful for these
pieces of natural
as was his outcast soul,
they lit the candles in the hall
of unfinished tender flesh
an erasure poem derived from a novel that caused much controversy D H Lawrence Lady Chatterlys Lover
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