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177
Psycheto Eros
so much time chaste
so much time barely
admired, never
loved, now
transparent presences
wait on me
impatiently all day
I count the hours
that hinder your arrival
you will come as always
wearing the cloak
of the invisible man
at night you come to watch over
the foreseeable weeping
slight promises
that the pain is brief
preliminary to the love
that passes through me
in the tongue’s reversal
that licks the hand
and sips the milk
gushes the oil
that burns the back
of the ochre body
the archer
draws again the string
of the smooth bow
the arrow
cuts