Possession in the Dream

Come

Beloved

I will savor you with joy.

You will dream of me tonight.

Your body will end

where the hour of your fertility and agony

begins for me;

and because we are full of grief

my love for you is born within your breast,

I love you, to begin with, for your mouth.

Come

We shall dine at the site of my soul.

Before I open myself, I will open my body

for you, like the full and uprooted sea

until the twilight of fish.

Because you are beautiful,

my brother,

my eternal sweetness,

Your waist in which the day flickers

filling all things with its scent,

Your decision to love,

suddenly,

pours unexpectedly into my soul,

Your morning sex

where the world’s edge rests

then lengthens.

Come

I will savor you with joy.

Your voice will be a bouquet of light at my feet.

We will speak of your body

with the purest joy,

like sleepless children at whose side

another child went barely discovered,

and revealed at his incipient arrival,

his future age known completely, without measure

in his approaching genital torrent,

endless riverbed, in tightened solitude.

Come

I will savor you with joy.

You will dream of me tonight,

and our mouths will seal the fallen scents.

I will inhabit you with larks and weeks

eternally dark and naked.