My tongue,
over your primitive soil,
a flesh-cloud
bursting with fiery rain,
each droplet inscribing
a ripple of ecstasy.
~
The oceans of joy
In a grain of pure sadness,
Inside a dark thorn
The white garden of dawn.
~
Your love
like solar blood
flows through my veins,
pumping through my heart
the thunder of your voice,
bolts of poetry.
~
I open and embrace you
as the sky embraces the sun
after a long night,
thus I become your song,
the effulgence of your sight.
~
Blossoming
the tree transfigures the garden
as you, in my heart,
birth me as pure light.
~
Permeating the air
the nectar of your skin;
the sun, the moon,
and all the stars
at the bank of heaven
stoop down to drink.
~
Her skin,
the gauze silk of the moon
draping the whole sky.
~
Your ineffable breath
overtakes me
as though I were
a dawn flower,
then I blossom,
then I sigh,
my passionate nectar
smearing the whole sky.
~
Into the mist
and over the endless sea
my poems
a pilgrimage of birds
thirsty for the flesh
of your eternity.
~
Heady from gazing at the stars,
Each, in your skin,
A freckled poème.
~
All the lights twinkling
Over the far away hills,
Stars unfolding
In the wells of your eyes.
~
From the eastern sky
it spills,
the voice of dawn,
gentle and serene,
awakening the garden
sleeping amid the hills.
