WHEN I WENT OUT When I went out to tell her The love that can't be told She hid in themes of marble And deep reliefs of gold When I caught her in the flesh And floated on her hips Her bosom was a fishing net To harvest infant lips A soft dismissal in her gaze And I was more than free But took a while to undertake My full transparency Ages since I went to look Or she would think to hide Torn the cover torn the book The stories all untied But someone made of thread and mist Attends her every grace Sees more beauty than I did When I was in his place Copyright © 2005 Leonard Cohen. Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved. First printed in The Walrus magazine (July/August 2005)