It is not
The sweet, far thing
But that wretched, near
Temptation.

That in shame
Follows my heart
To the safety
Of my soul's chamber.

Temptation
That undresses
My guilty conscious
And makes love
To my dreams.

Temptation
With blue eyes
And the voice of a gypsy,
Speaking only
In lullabies.

Temptation
Bartering my love
For those limpid pools of ocean,

Upon which I sail
When drifting to sleep.