Slowly the morning climbs towards the day.
As for the poem, not this poem but any
poem, do you feel its sting? Do you
feel its hope, its entrance to a community? Do
you feel its hand in your hand?
So sweet and delicious do I become, when I am in bed with a man who,
I sense, loves and enjoys me,
that that pleasure I bring excels all delight,
so that knot of love, however tight it seemed before,
is tied tighter still.