They embrace until exhaustion The twin doves That rest or fly upon your breast, They travel the distances of your legs, They coil in the light of your waist ... Clasping my arms like a climbing plant the leaves garnered your voice, that was slow and at peace. Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning. Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul ... Under the trees light has dropped from the top of the sky, light like a green latticework of branches, shining on every leaf, drifting down like clean white sand ... Home