Dreaming this secret
heaven in my arms I
lunge towards sleep
with an unspeakable will
to move the movement
of bodies and sing
bell-like from the beginning
our death to the end.
For faith
we speak the word
to ourselves and create
belief our heart might
turn to chance. Look,
her wings are golden
before many graves
strewn with
flowers whose petals
black and yellow,
purple and white.
This circle is
everything love
and apathy who
speak to one another
on a shore of
dark silt. My desire
lies out there on top
of the sea, right here,
in the mist rising,
with the spell your kiss.
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