For Vanderson


Now that we are married,
Morning Sun seems no more unruly
As it streams through curtains
On your unblemished thighs.

At evening, when Old Moon
Is first rising darkly red—
Yet no more red than are your lips
Sleeping silently in bed.

If I had never seen the Sun
Nor subtle light of Moon by night
So deep in love am I with you
Darkness would not hide my love.

Together we do bear desire
As flowers release their scent.
True passion and the Life that springs
Rises up from fountains deep within.