Of two lips, a he and a she, you were born, Wonder.
Springtime entered to rise in you.
Separated from the two, you conducted
My blood symphony.

Oh, word of mine, unique
As a one with burnt out zeroes,
Sensitive as a magnet's needle
To the North Star.
Of two lips, a he and a she, seeing and invisible.

I do not know whose dream embodied you, whose
Tearburst ardently extinguished you.
Without you, I was a cinder, I was
Without body-or-tongue.

And you, unique, my I, you heard
Under dust and shards
My breath.
You came to life, immortal as death.

1979