My lover, yoked in furs Choked in feathers. I have learned I've inferred: he's not for you, he is for me I stand, hand outstretched Ropes of metal around my neck I've been led to expect he is for me We're here with our dog He and the painter are talking shop Hope he catches the fall of the cloth The shade of green My lover, here with me One hand blessing, one outreached I can see: he is for me, he is for me