Our lives return to the wall
Where the vines clamber over the trellis:
Even before you, the summer will arrive,
On its honeysuckle feet, in your bedroom.
Armenia, dollop of disinterred honey:
Ceylon, green dove: and the YangTse with its old
Old patience, dividing the day from the night.
Like two blind birds to their wall,
To their nest in a distant spring:
Our lives return to the wall, to the rocks of the sea:
Our kisses head back home where they belong.
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