the half-dressed woman standing at the door
and breathing in the air lit by the Sun.
The creature whom I love, the only one
that quenches my overwhelming thirst.
The love before whom there is no first,
the body that can't hope to be found
in the churning clouds nor on the ground.
My beautiful treasure whom I devote
myself to, whom the historians wrote
into a system with repeated movements.
My glorious secret whom in a moment
obliterates my pitiful sufferings,
reveals herself, opens her mouth, and sings.
No comments:
Post a Comment