Come out of hiding now, neglected Genie!
Come, show me how to do what Shakespeare could:
bound inside rhyming lines, make me Houdini
freeing myself to make love understood.
No, I don’t want the Master overthrown.
The game he mastered, I’ll try playing, too,
to make my love (a woman’s love!) made known
as well as his: different, but no less true.
But stay inside there, Genie, where you hide;
beside my lover, you’re unqualified.