Zalinka

1.

Last night in a land of triangles, 

  I lay in a cubicle, where

A girl in pyjamas and bangles 

  Slept with her hands in my hair. 

2. 

I wondered if either or neither

  Of us were properly there, 

Being subject to queer aberrations-

Astral and thin aberrations-

  Which leave me no base to compare; 

  No adequate base to compare: 

Tho' her hands, with their wristful of bangles, 

  Where certainly fast in my hair, 

While the moon made pallid equations 

  Thro' a delicate window there. 

3. 

I was glad that she slept for I never

  Can tell what the finish will be: 

What enamoured, nocturnal endeavour

  May end in the killing of me: 

But, in the moonlit obscuro 

  Of that silken, somniferous lair, 

Like a poet consumed with a far lust

  Of things unapproachably fair

I fancied her body of stardust-

Pounded of spices and stardust- 

  Out of the opulent air. 

4. 

Then the moon, with its pale liquidations, 

  Fell across her in argentine bars, 

And I thought: This is fine- but to-morrow

  What cut of Dawn's cold scimitars 

Will sever my hold on this creature- 

  I mean of this creature on me?- 

Amorous creature of exquisite aura- 

  Marvel of dark glamorie. 

5. 

What joy of folly then followed

  Is beyond my expression in rhyme: 

And I do not expect you to grasp it

  When I speak of expansions of time: 

Of reaching and zooming serenely 

  As it were at right angles to time:

Knowing well you will think, on your level, 

  This was only a dream indiscreet- 

  Or experience quite indiscreet:

But little I care, in this instance, 

  What you do or do not think discreet: 

  O utterance futile, but sweet, 

  Like a parrot I pause and repeat, 

In delight of my own, and for nothing, 

  To myself I repeat and repeat: 

6. 

Last night in a land of triangles, 

  I lay in a cubicle where

A girl in pyjamas and bangles 

  Slept with her hands in my hair. 

Poem: "Zalinka," Tom MacInnes