I love the handful of the earth you are

I love the handful of the earth you are.

Because of its meadows, vast as a planet,

I have no other star. You are my replica of the multiplying universe.

Your wide eyes are the only light I know from extinguished constellations; your skin throbs like the streak of a meteor through rain.

Your hips were that much of the moon for me; your deep mouth and its delights, that much sun; your heart, fiery with its long red rays, was that much ardent light, like honey in the shade.

So I pass across your burning form, kissing you-compact and planetary, my dove, my globe.