Alone in the far corner Of a world of dreams I listen to the plaintive whisper Of sweet memories with wings Clipped with time fluttering A sedate, soothing rhythm Through this cool flesh sliding So namelessly familiar Over this landscape of loose Translation. She kisses me, Slowly forces herself through me; My trembling assembles a tacit myth: This is of significance. We move in lasting time, Resisting a sense of desperate secrecy. Then, somewhere far below us, The strangers, the rest of them, Begin to stir. I need not ask She stays until I forget. And we are laughing-- The day has come too soon And we are sobbing. This is a stranger's clutch; So little time to learn so much-- As if no other night could bring Such a futile, fleeting touch. And because she sighs, And because she sings As she becomes my pain-- I must steal the night again.