(Revised) Corinna Comes

(after Ovid, the Amores I:V)

A summer afternoon, with shutters drawn,
dapples in my room like light in leaves,
like an evening or a dawn
of modest shadows.
Through this light, and lightly, Corinna comes:
her hair tumbled, her shift undone.
Her shift! Linen that fine is no barrier.
She hits me but not hard
then bends back to be conquered.