Jew #7
Like liquid blood in dead old trees
My author's sap was all dried up
And nothing inspired me. But seize
With fancy of your love, the cup
Of heaven brims again. And so I
Return to pour my heart afresh
Upon the paper like listening flesh
And pray and dance beneath the sky.
O love, look what you have done to me
You broke my chains, and set me free
You gave me liberty. O love, how sweet
The morning comes ... I long to meet
You once again beneath the silent moon
And whisper fragrance in your ears
From the jasmines bloom in nights of June
I am wet with happy, happy tears.
Shall smell soon your body as it lingers
In the tawny dusky room, shall we
Embrace another September, fingers
Silent while their trembling desire trace
The contours of the body's map of earth
And paradise? O love, I renewed to tell
The litany of my flowering day, my mirth
Living where sweet your memory dwells.
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