My day exploded in your night
And my letters came to life
In your bed, all the poems
In my heart took shape their
In the undressing of our lives
Silently we approached
The hour of the Goddess
And all my dreams
Of platinum literature
Took root in the tree of your womb
I open the lips of your night
Without speaking, but with
A lifetime of poetry carried
In my soul, like golden grapes
I give to you the shadows of the moon
The whiteness of infinity
Your rose burns through the snow
Your flesh dangerously close
To the dawn, and we repeat
The cycle eternally
Male and female, active and passive
Lovingly with all the sleep
And literature and art in our bones.
Wuji Seshat 