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i miss you poem

un poeta, tomando el frenillo de su lengüeta
era una diosa ere el mármol me encontró
tome mis pulseras
no permanezca no más
en la obscuridad y la paz de mi cama final
claro de luna profundo y blando
babylon -- donde voy a soñar
el cuerpo puede confinar
o justo y stately criada, que ojos
soplador de vidrio del tiempo
ésos en el superior dicen que le conocen, tierra -- son mentirosos
no hay presa yo de pensamientos pobres

 



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