Munch, on Dagny Juell  
                       after the lithograph, Jealousy II  
          (Edvard Munch, 1896)  
            Everything about her is irresistible:  
              her long black hair that falls into my face  
              when we make love,  
              her red lips the color of blood flower.  
              And what’s more, she loves me too  
              even though she is the wife of my close friend  
              and risks her marriage to meet me afternoons  
              in my studio in the backstreets of Berlin.  
              Her husband is outraged but she claims  
              he does not know her as well as I do  
              or the other men at the Café zum schwarzen Ferkel.  
              Yes, she has been with a few of them too  
              but she says I am her most passionate lover,  
              when I gaze into her eyes I see her soul  
              and there is nothing she can hide.  
              In truth, she says, I can never belong to any man,  
              I am too weak, and then she says,  
              we are too weak, Edvard, that is why  
              we will never stay together  
              and why we need each other so much  
              we embrace like this in the afternoon light—  
              surely all of Berlin can see.  
                 
            
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