Lover, this austere madness, the awful fire

Lover, this austere madness, the awful fire
of want in my body. The intoxicating lust
of a hungry man, the ways the birds adjust
their song with the changing shadow. The choir

of stars that confuse the night. Lover, desire
annihilates me easily, desire has exhausted
my reason and its measure. I cannot trust
the knowing of my eyes, their solemn affair

with the objects of the world seems to offer
nothing to my soul. The curious red marks
on her legs and thighs, the awful suffering

of the burning trees. Lover, the mysterious work
of gods bewilders the living. Beautiful weather
is pierced by rolling clouds that bring the dark.