With desire, feed me wine,
Among pain, make yourself as mine
Beneath sheets that fade away thy purest form,
As all angels weep above in their enclosure.
For I have destined myself,
To wed myself,
With yourself, a queen of a night,
A desire and a might.
You have felt the sin,
To which we ran the waters
Over our palms,
And over the soils.
When thou did,
Thou filled baskets, with ripest apples,
And filled thy mouth, with words of praise.
Make this kindest moment last.
The moment when we dance,
Before an altar so lit with wonder,
An altar adorned with petals,
I see thee, a face of finest beauty.
I see lips as strips of scarlet,
And cheeks with rose attached,
And eyes that beam out the wishful note,
“Never to leave, never to depart,”
As you rightfully say.
And when I see thy graceful form,
Kept in my palm,
I find nothing else to
Create a qualm.
Face me, dear thing,
You have beauty roaring out,
To the furthest shores,
So mighty that you are, needing to see,
How much I love thee,
And all of thee.
We are now united, with faces to breathe.