- Book: Arrow Music BY [Bryher].
- Poem: IN EXILE.
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Is it love that drifts your head toward your white, cool shoulder, heat-smitten rose too tense for the white throat? Is it love that paints the eyelid ledge with iris; the weariness of days I dare not know you suffered? Is it love that hurts or thought?
Has sleep conquered love ? Have you spent your love on the white cytisus ridges, the Nereid-blue water, the wing-dip of the hills?
Are my own limbs but a sheath for your intensity, my love.