An adaptation of “Porphyria’s Lover” by Robert Browning
Ev’ry morning I rose to wake
The lover whose heart I had yearned to take
Forever, it had seemed, I had gone fishing
For the strings of his heart, wanting, wishing.
Finally, finally! My cheeks, my hair
Won him over to my complexion fair.
Yet perhaps he leaned much too far,
A mark on his conscious, his mind, a scar.
I meant no harm, a little girl was I,
Unaware to the damage behind the eye.
So that night, that night, when rain roared high
I fled to warmth from the breaking sky
Into his arms I fled, sitting by the fire
Strung my garments of wet into a heap of a mire
Fixed the flames,
Laid down to rest.
I loved him, loved him so, spread my flaxen hair
About and fro, his eyes pierced into mine, eyelashes thick and full of care.
Yet before I knew it my hair was gathered
And I saw in his eyes a hint of madness
Just a hint, as I was startled to see such a reading
And felt a lace thrice round my breathing.
A weight pulled mine eyes closing shut, my fingertips frail and shaking much
Dear love, dear love, how had I known
How had I known but not found
The solution, before you and I both fell
Deep into this dark pit of a well
Now your breath huffs over mine, stilled,
Your warmblood races against mine still,
As the life leaves my lips
I know not why but beg of you a kiss.