little paradise inferno

by me then, oh
sister, let there
be nothing measured

for so artlessly
a white thread, i am
toward beautiful ones

many light threads
of wool and cotton
woven to warm you

many silk threads
of black lace and linen
an animal in pearls

a wood-burning stove
a globe of amber liquid
my body hums near yours

a whisper in your ear
asking permission
to do many things

i share a secret
at the brilliant seam
for the burning temper

i listen at the temple
i lose my inhibition
words all through you


//

ἐμοὶ μὲν οὖν
ὦ ἑταῖρε
οὐδὲν σταθμητόν

ἀτεχνῶς γὰρ
λευκὴ στάθμη εἰμὶ
πρὸς τοὺς καλούς

σχεδὸν γάρ τί μοι πάντες
οἱ ἐν τῇ ἡλικίᾳ
καλοὶ φαίνονται

// 154β

& the catastrophe of bees

your honey means
my golden bowl
unguarded

for to me almost all
those in their growth
appear beautiful