But you prefer Dover Beach

because you can understand
because the sentiment is fine
and the metered lines stike soft as waves on stones
touched white as if by moonlight
tired moonlight

because you prefer to reach for me
than to rage in that night
in blind moonlight
filigreed upon slate stones as if by electic needles
which have no need for us to see, though we watch
because their audience is one and we are two

because the world circles round us there
though we may dance mechanical
and our tune may ring tinny
because we circle there, and slow
we two alone with no more light than stony glow

because you know the moon and stars
are the only metaphor, not sea beats, filigreed
slick reflections, nor lights of ships;
because you know the memory of the Greeks is written in the sky
and it is right to shout those names out above the waves
and the struggle has no true foes, deaf and blind

because you know Zeus too feasted on godly flesh

and we are gods, were like gods
and even that does not change us