Rising and Setting
As if the moon laced blood throughout the veins
In all my smooth-skinned parts with shining dust
Drawn off from her pocked seas; as if with pains
She coaxed vast tides within my soul, caused lust
Implacable as crater shapes to form
Within my lunar bones, within the red,
Dark marrow zones; as if she changed to warm
Rings levitating round my heart, then led
Me out of my eclipse (which spread from strict
Conventions in the orbits of my past)
Toward a crescent hope (which might predict
A waxing, future love fulfilled at last)—
So your face awed horizons in my sphere
Of flesh, as moons come sometimes, swelling near.