Your body is not salt and yet is salt
just as it is not bread and yet is bread
that now has been cut in two for me,
sacrilegious, to eat holily, sacrifice,
eucharist of the spread-out night.
It's not a house, your body, yet is the house
that could be lived in without lights,
the yellow candles lit, smelling of yellow,
time wounded without blame or origin,
altar without sacrifice, eucharist.

Translated by Anna Crowe