perfectly

Perfectly

everywhere i have always ventured, softly beyond 
yet still experience in you, your beauty where lay silence 
as you move most frail in velvet such things which warm me, 
as wings i cannot breathe for the sun cries too near; 

your gentle look easily does unbound me 
even where i have closed my eyes as dream, 
in you flowers open always silk by silk kissing spring: 
( mysteriously, all moons wave in you ) oceans crawl; 

oh how your tongue has the taste of wines, and 
my life drinks the spirits you pour, beautifully 
for as the heart of this poetry imagines sonnets 
everywhere as music ascending in summer’s violins; 

never would any disbelieved perception of this world equal 
the gifts of your fragile soul: such fantasy in soft passions 
what drowns me in the colors splashed upon your heaving flesh, 
pausing age forever with every breath you release 

(i can not pretend to decide in you what it is that moves 
and devours me; only how in some things of what you mean 
as the scent & touch of your eyes deeper than all devotions) 
no song, nor ever any reason, has me so perfectly.