THIRD POEM, CONSUMMATION

Like white nocturnal animals
your arms gather
where my soul beats softly.

Your voice
flickers by my side
like a piano of deep silver
simple as — when alone— the sea
arranges shipwrecks of fish and wine
for the next season of water.
Then,
my love slides beneath your voice

My sex floods like the world
and holds birds,
Doves and naked bodies burst from my breast.
Already within you
I cannot find myself,
falling in the path of my body,
With a submerged and tender
dense vocation,
With collapsing breath
and final shape.
You lead me to my body,
and I arrive,
expanding my womb
and its vast dampness,
where gentle mangers grow and white lilies
and a small animal,
suffering and transient.

          II

Ah,
if only I could find you one day
placidly on the verge of my death,
arousing my ear with your love
through which water runs
without re-birth...
If only I could find you one day
—so close to death and so celestial—
at the border="0" of this slope
all that suddenly remains with the afternoon.

Ah,
Comrade,

How I love you at times
for your man's name

And for my neck where your soul rests.