beloved I dreamt of you
dreaming atilt against the lilies –
the dawn with its mouth
tottering before like an animal
shying away from the automaton sky.
it is in your hair full of evenings
I saw the moon not with its tail
but with the hooves of the deathless sea
of this droning silence,
not with its stride of sidereal measure
but the mount of it past a thousand days
tainted with crimson, it is not with lithe hands
of churlish girls that I have plucked you out of that
garden but with the immense hand
of such obscure understanding from sleep’s peculiar
mouth made divine in me, the word that christens what
felled star rises from the palm of such darkness,
that in the immensity of your sleep, I am but a bird
passing athwart the windows and yearn so much the breeze
that touches you in your timid sleep
like dreams like loins like sirens
like love cunning with its fluent spires
of perfumes.
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 6:47 AM UTC
beloved I dreamt of you
dreaming atilt against the lilies –
the dawn with its mouth
tottering before like an animal
shying away from the automaton sky.
it is in your hair full of evenings
I saw the moon not with its tail
but with the hooves of the deathless sea
of this droning silence,
not with its stride of sidereal measure
but the mount of it past a thousand days
tainted with crimson, it is not with lithe hands
of churlish girls that I have plucked you out of that
garden but with the immense hand
of such obscure understanding from sleep’s peculiar
mouth made divine in me, the word that christens what
felled star rises from the palm of such darkness,
that in the immensity of your sleep, I am but a bird
passing athwart the windows and yearn so much the breeze
that touches you in your timid sleep
like dreams like loins like sirens
like love cunning with its fluent spires
of perfumes.
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