I concede myself to you

Audio of the Poem

I concede myself
to you and to the cult
of your two hands

and your two lips,
of your cruel hips
and the constellations

between them — those
rough stars of never
forgetting and the always

longing for the taste
of your body. My twilight
dreams of loving you, I do

not excuse—my brilliant
object, my rampage
of prayers. Here in the dark

curve of my longing, where
my love for you invents
innumerable cities whose populations

are taken to be drunk
as if by kissing and each landing
is lit by a red lanterns

These cities where houses
with closed eyes remember
our loving with even

more prayers of doors
and windows left open,
welcoming everything

in — always remembering the emancipated
loves of memory, that walk with heads up,
towards the sun



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