A Paradox by Georgia Douglas Johnson — Read

I know you love me better cold / Strange as the pyramids of old / Responselessly.

But I am frail, and spent and weak / With surging torrents that bespeak / A living fire.

So, like a veil, my poor disguise / Is draped to save me from your eyes'

Deep challenges.

Fain would I fling this robe aside / And from you, in your bosom hide / Eternally.

Alas! you love me better cold / Like frozen pyramids of old / Unyieldingly?