I look deep into the eyes of my beloved,
And because I can see that her soul
Is naked and unashamed, my love
Wants to rise and kiss the flame
On her breast. In this flood
Of lust, love is the buoy.
At the ceaseless portent of ticking time,
One can laugh. In rapture,
I watch her as, with a mischievous smile,
She moves the first hand of the clock
Back by five hours
And says, “See? The night is just beginning.”
We move in and out of lust and love
Till the sun rises,
Till her marble-white body
Glows with the faint orange glow of dawn.
Secrets in love, pleasure in lust.
Day and night—the balance
To which we keep adding
Bits of our souls and our dreams.
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