Bright Being

In the rich meadowland of the senses
Shade mingles and stirs in the clearings.
In that land where oranges blossom
I find you, child, again.
On the shore where surf scurries hissing
And the sand scrapes under your shoulder,
Where tides nuzzle sweetly together,
I hold you, child, again.
In the heat of wet tongues and embraces,
In the shuddering bed where Love
Can never quite be requited,
I lie with you again.
That childhood has lasted forever
In a forest of tottering archways;
And still, in the echoing moonlight,
I kiss you, child, again.