To what you said, passionately clasping my hand, this is my answer:
Though you have strayed hither, for my sake, you can never belong to me
Nor I to you
Behold the customary loves and friendships the cold guards
L am that rough and simple person
L am he who kisses his comrade lightly on the lips at parting
And l am one who is kissed in return
I introduce that new American salute
Behold love choked, correct, polite, always suspicious
Behold the received models of the parlors --
What are they to me?
What to these young men that travel with me?