oh, you little one...

oh, you little one, —

you look as if you'd been

in the house of wolves

composed

or else, why, adequately,

to play intimate strategies,

just to occupy my thought

with yours

or both minds

to be equally preoccupied

to taste the whispers

of one to the other

or both mouths be guided

by the magic drops

of a soundless honey

into the cosmic reveries

or else why love is sculpted

into the stars by the stars

exactly as I'm here you're there,

so-so passionately, dreaming