I want to steal back your lap from time,
I need the safety of your shadow,
and your voice of chamois in my despairings.
I want those nights drunk with resin,
I want the ancient dance of your gods
under the frisky glitter of the moon
crackling against your fine-copper skin.
I want to scale the summits by your side
and say the most secret prayer
in the decisive hour of sunset.
I want to find the pulse of your fingerprints
and know that you'll wait for me on the shore
when at last my darkness dissipates.