I concede myself to you

Audio of the Poem

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

your two lips,
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,
my love for you invents

innumerable cities,
their populations drunk
as if by kissing. Each landing

lit by red lanterns.
In these cities, houses
with closed eyes recall

our loving—offering
still more prayers
in doors and windows

left open, welcoming
everything in—always
remembering the emancipated

loves of memory,
walking with heads raised
toward the sun,

singing.