Come at night to wander
among tepid dreams,
which rebuild civilizations
out of your hips,
and give solace
from the daily carnage
of our dusty cells.
*
Come at eve to wonder
what would become of us
if we don’t comingle
into a single will
to musketeer our way
through wage and routine
towards deep blue islands.
*
Come and meet me
at the wake of my sheets,
downy compost to our love,
fertile as a mango tree
in the sultriness of our passion
and stout as the oak wood
from which we’ll build our home.
***