Still sheathed in ardour, Sweetheart, in this night,
Though continents apart, I would not write;
The body of my thought can never be,
However subtle, half the mystery
Of one embrace; and naked phrases prove
Beyond all bonds, all grasp of given names,
To surface speechless within living flames;
Reduced to words, you cannot understand
My crabbed, distracted, unfamiliar hand,
Except that you might read between these lines,
Where tongue to touch you never will be found,
And see a white sheet as our common ground.
An exchange of letters between the sculptor Beatrice Fenton (1887 -1983) and her lover the painter Marjorie Martinet (1886 – 1981).
Fenton and Martinet were romantically involved for 50 years. They first met when they were both students at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts.
Facsimiles of Fenton’s and Martinet’s letters courtesy of Lost and Found: The Lesbian and Gay Presence at the Archives of American Art.
No image was available for Marjorie Martinet – but these are two of her paintings.