Classic Poem

I am a most fleshly man, and see
in your body what stirs my spirit.
And my spirit is intimate of my hand,
intimate of my breast and heart,
intimate of my parted lips
that would seek their solace
in your lips.

Receive me; worn and warm body I am.
I am a most fleshly fire, and yearn
for your body to replenish my flame.
I would embrace you and name myself
anew in your flesh.

The green of eucalyptus boughs
hung in the distances of the air.
Les terraces au clair de la lune
playd in the orb of the afternoon, blue
and sunlit area where
we moved.
The japonaiserie of bay
and islands in the smoky haze
seemd to bear the fine imprint,
distinct and lonely, of the mind's design,
and beckoning intimation of a love
in which the days like swallows Hew,
one by one, from the heart's dim grove
to trace in their Hight the lineaments of truth.
I spoke to you and tried to say
I seek the body's rest in grace.

O I should have knelt upon the floor and wept.
I should have surrenderd to the body's faith and knelt,
suppliant to the hour's god that came and went,
a luminous shadow in the blood.

I have made my vow in Hesh, and see
in you the body's golden covenant.
And the spirit is intimate of your hand,
intimate of your breast and lips.
I woo that carnal sacrament of you,
the lover's testament of faith
in which in body we release
the spirit's immortality.

Come unto me, questioning dark spirit.
You dwell upon the threshold of my mind.
his yearning is a vast eternity
that waste about us questioning lies,
and we, in the limbo of disembodied love,
stare upon the bodies we deny.

I am a most fleshly fire.
I would embrace you in that flame,
and we should lie brought then to rest
and gaze, gaze upon each other in that hour
when newly created each in the other
we hang like smoky music in the air.