Poem 121: Joined at the Lip

the casual laying down
of your cause by me
has raised on my never
side of pleasing you
a spring which having slept
on as the puppet rehearsal
takes now in the first night
of its life, a pinch of gold
from the one and lonely act
of Adams dreaming rib
which by the force of our
new alchemy’s conception
gives now for the structure
of its birth your body of light
to flow on ever beside me
such as the morning dreams itself
a Sun, across the pleasing
vale of your stomach, as is
the lantern wand of my
arms authority resting
its symbol lightly on your life
freeing your movement to find
the master hood of its own way
as does the shelving fall of the fountains
life as it lays down its own cause
on the rivers bed in answer
to the lands natural law of calling.