(b. 1948)
from Brief Lessons in Eroticism I
I
To sail the entire length of a body
Is to circle the world
To navigate the rose of the winds without a compass
Islands gulfs peninsulas breakwaters against crashing waves
It’s not easy to find such pleasure
Don’t think you can get it in one day or night of consoling sheets
There are enough secrets in the pores to fill many moons
II
The body is an astral chart in a coded language
Find a star and perhaps you’ll begin
To change course when suddenly a hurricane or piercing scream
Makes you tremble in fear
A crease in the hand you didn’t expect
III
Go over the entire length many times
Find the lake with white water lilies
Caress the lily’s center with your anchor
Plunge deep drown yourself stretch your limbs
Don’t deny yourself the smell the salt the sugar
The heavy winds cumulonimbus-lungs
The brain’s dense fog
Earthquake of legs
Sleeping tidal waves of kisses
IV
Place yourself in the humus without fear
of wearing out there’s no hurry
Delay reaching the peak
the threshold of paradise
Rock your fallen angel let your ursurped sword of fire
lose itself in the thick hair
Bite the apple
VI
Listen to the shell of the ear
How the dampness moans
Earlobe approaching the lip sound of breathing
Pores that rise up to form tiny mountains
Shivery insurrection of skin caressed
Gentle bridge neck go down to the sea breast
The heart’s tide whisper to her
Find the grotto of water.
VIII
Breathe in breathe out
Die a little
Sweetly slowly die
Come to death against the eye’s center let the pleasure go on
Turn the rudder spread the sails
Sail on toward Venus
morning star
—the sea like a vast mercuric crystal—
sleep you shipwrecked sailor.
§
(translated by Steven White)