Holy Night (D-S8)
I’d just as soon tonight
would never end –
The friend has lit
the house like candlelight –
Her face is gracing
everything –
no sun or moon
rise need recur –
Her eyebrow curving
like black letters
in a holy book –
Her breast seen edge-on
in the candlelight,
the scent of it –
The musky fragrance
of her hair
has filled the room
like incense –
And her braid is looped
around my neck,
its scent alone
has done me in –
Her face leans
close enough for me
to see the slight sweet down
of her upper lip –
It tastes of rose
and sugar, sweeter
than I need
or can bear –
Like thirst slaked
after desert heat,
my hand finds
the smoothness
of her skin –
The smoothness
of her breast –
The scent of musk
impenetrates
and permeates
my fingers –
She shifts and smiles,
I pull her nearer,
can’t let go –
And when she speaks
her eyebrow arches,
clever, sweet
and voiceless word.
(OR for last stanza:
And when she speaks
her eyebrow arches,
clever, sweet
and voiceless
pre-eternal word.)
She falls asleep
in silence in my arms,
in deepest night
when darkness feels
eternal. All endures
persistently through death.
Let every heart –
prays Mazun – have
the friend
in every moment.
