Gospel According to Saint Eros
Soft is silk to the quick of a woman’s body
Soft will be my speech to sing
With candor and veneration that isle
Where the sails of health set out
I sing the sex of woman
I speak its equinoxes and legends
I speak its Gospel according to Saint Eros
I shout its lights and seeing shades
And all that I know of its high tides!
Don’t blush at my song
Its nudity comes from the tree
That rain has loved.
We are not ashamed of our mouths
That lie, slander, and accuse without cause.
We don’t hide our hands that steal,
Betray, torture, and kill.
We don’t blush when our feet carry us to war
Nor at our eyes that can insult,
Wound, or lynch a child.
But we drag the sex of woman
In the mud. We carry
Its miracles like an epidemic
And we have dirty words
To call its ember that puts us
In a state of innocence and magic!
Pagan son of rain and fire
In the depth of woman I have
Always found well-lit windows
Shores sown with luminous
And fresh hormones, dreams
That cry out in joy.
I have always said yes to woman
Yes yes to her glory and warmth of being.
The skylark and the sky
On the shoulder of night
The sweet truth
That sings on every hill!