Dark in dark
I climb your spiral stairs
for the roving eyes,
reading my poems.

Will you pull down
the basil a bit? I want the
restless aroma to spread out
on my pages.

You keep a bloodhound
to track my nomadic thoughts. I wear
your smile in moonlight.

Pry open the hatch of a treasure.
My complete oeuvre was
left for unknown you.

Waves had washed up
a bright moon―
on the golden beach. I was not ready
to turn your face.