Entering the deep
I’ll love you until the moon turns wild or dry.
Alas, has the day turned so soon into a rosy array
of colors scattered before decaying eyes.
How come the golden drops
of honey from you lilac lips
turn grey in the moonlit night.
You must have surrendered to
since your breath has turned cold.
But what now!
By morning dew and the watery spirits,
you cheeks have again ripen with the tenderness
of cherries, saturated with color and juice.
Have you then returned?
Since you’ve been devoured and
stand now before me fully fleshed,
tell me the eyes of the love divine!