The movement of the water that I'm hearing
in clouds, the falling leaves from oak trees,
the spirals in the air. I have often seen
birds silhouetted in the sky, I can't bear
to lose the sight of her, to lose the star
that orients me on this sphere. Her knees
and legs, her arms and shoulders all agree
with the language of my god. All that she wears
obscures her truth, but the occulting swells
my intoxication with her. I have wasted
my being expressing the heavens and hells
of a separate personal existence. The chaste
planets seems to shimmer and I can smell
her warming body, its contour I can taste.
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