Big sky. Long Beach, Sandy Bay. April 2020.
In my opinion, Easter Saturday is the most pointless and disappointing of all holidays...
Dialogue on the Headland, Robert Graves
SHE: You'll not forget these rocks and what I told you?
HE: How could I? Never: whatever happens.
SHE: What do you think might happen?
Might you fall out of love? - did you mean that?
HE: Never, never! 'Whatever' was a sop
For jealous listeners in the shadows.
SHE: You haven't answered me. I asked:
'What do you think might happen?'
HE: Whatever happens: though the skies should fall
Raining their larks and vultures in our laps -
SHE: 'Though the sea turn to slime' -say that -
'Though water-snakes be hatched with six heads.'
HE: Though the seas turn to slime, or tower
In an arching wave above us, three miles high -
SHE: 'Though she should break with you' - dare you say that? -
'Though she deny her words on oath.'
HE: I had that in my mind to say, or nearly;
It hurt so much I choked it back.
SHE: How many other days can't you forget?
How many other loves and landscapes?
HE: You are jealous?
SHE: Damnably.
HE: The past is past.
SHE: And this?
HE: Whatever happens, this goes on.
SHE: Without a future? Sweetheart, tell me now:
What do you want of me? I must know that.
HE: Nothing that isn't freely mine already.
SHE: Say what is freely yours and you shall have it.
HE: Nothing that, loving you, I should dare take.
SHE: O, for an answer with no 'nothing' in it!
HE: Then give me everything that's left.
SHE: Left after what?
HE: After whatever happens:
Skies have already fallen, seas are slime,
Watersnakes poke and peer six-headedly -
SHE: And I lie snugly in the Devil's arms.
HE: I said: 'Whatever happens.' Are you crying?
SHE: You'll not forget me - ever, ever, ever?
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