The Golden Age of Love

My hands are in love, alas, my mouth loves - and see, I am suddenly aware that things are so close to me I can hardly walk among them without suffering. It is a sweet feeling of waking, of dreaming, and I am here now, without sleep - I clearly see the ivory gods, I take them in my hands and thrust them, laughing, in the moon up to their sculpted hilts - the wheel of an ancient ship, adorned and spun by sailors. Jupiter is yellow, Hera the magnificent shades to silver. I strike the wheel with my left hand and it moves. It is a dance of sentiments, my love, many a goddess of the air, between the two of us. And I, the sail of my soul billowed with longing, look for you everywhere, and things come ever closer, crowding my chest, hurting me.