Epitaph for Fire and Flower You might as well haul up This wave's green peak on wire To prevent fall, or anchor the fluent air In quartz, as crack your skull to keep These two most perishable lovers from the touch That will kindle angels' envy, scorch and drop Their fond hearts charred as any match. Seek no stony camera-eye to fix The passing dazzle of each face In black and white, or put on ice Mouth's instant flare for future looks; Stars shoot their petals, and suns run to seed, However you may sweat to hold such darling wrecks Hived like honey in your head. Now in the crux of their vows hang your ear, Still as a shell: hear what an age of glass These lovers prophesy to lock embrace Secure in museum diamond for the stare Of astounded generations; they wrestle To conquer cinder's kingdom in the stroke of an hour And hoard faith safe in a fossil. But though they'd rivet sinews in rock And have every weathercock kiss hang fire As if to outflame a phoenix, the moment's spur Drives nimble blood too quick For a wish to tether: they ride nightlong In their heartbeats' blazing wake until red cock Plucks bare that comet's flowering. Dawn snuffs out star's spent wick, Even as love's dear fools cry evergreen, And a languor of wax congeals the vein No matter how fiercely lit; staunch contracts break And recoil in the altering light: the radiant limb Blows ash in each lover's eye; the ardent look Blackens flesh to bone and devours them. --Sylvia Plath --

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