Astray

From where... they never crossed my mind;
my heart dies upon them;
from where... did love gather them?

Your lips... O outpouring of the vines —
and my mouth murmurs the question:
from where?

From two locks of dew;
the rose wiped his cheek;
O rose, enough for you that they —

— From the fragrance of the hills;
from two tremors of shadow;
with them, and slept in coquetry;
have slain your lips with their bounty.

★

From where did love gather them?
From two jars that blazed —

From where...?
— From the glow of the sands;
from your heart's hunger for men.

★

Your luscious mouth — it has been steeped;
let it drown in my blood;
I love it, astray as I am —

in perfume from the lip of beauty;
let it live forever in my fancy —
the color of sin and error.