THIS fireglow is a red womb
In the night, where you’re
folded up
On your
doom.
And the ugly, brutal years
Are dissolving out of
you,
And the
stagnant tears.
I the great vein that leads
From the night to the source
of you,
Which the
sweet blood feeds.
New phase in the germ of you;
New sunny streams of
blood
Washing you
through.
You are born again of me.
I, Adam, from the veins of me
The Eve that is to
be.
What has been long ago
Grows dimmer, we both forget,
We no longer
know.
You are lovely, your face is soft
Like a flower in
bud
On a mountain
croft.
This is Noël for me.
To-night is a woman born
Of the man in
me.