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“Two Figures in Dense Violet Night” by Wallace Stevens 🇺🇸 (2 Oct 1879 – 2 Aug 1955)
I had as lief be embraced by the porter at the hotel
As to get no more from the moonlight
Than your moist hand.
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Be the voice of night and Florida in my eat.
Use dusky words and dusky images.
Darken your speech.
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Speak, even, as if I did not hear you speaking,
But spoke for you perfectly in my thoughts,
Conceiving words,
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As the night conceives the sea-sounds in silence,
And out of their droning sibilants makes
A serenade.
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Say, puerile, that the buzzards crouch on the ridge-pole
And sleep with one eye watching the stars fall
Below Key West.
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Say that the palms are clear in a total blue,
Are clear and are obscure; that it is night;
That the moon shines.