Differance

Oh but the night has clothed me, Neptune, and the art
Is different from before, for the roiling currents
Run where the tunny-fish swim, and the moonlight
Glances the abyss where I have fallen, and I drown.

Once there was a wind that could help me, a golden breeze
Overlaid in monuments bejeweled and silver anklets,
The balance of pure light split
Into Edenic forms. If she kissed me then it was with eyes
Of sapphire and a nose relic of the fall, whose heat
Kept me from December and made the forests blaze:

Those forests, god of salt and sand, were rills for the nymphs,
Treasury of fallen limbs and broken teeth, probosci
Of granite and the ox-eyed lune, Luna who prophesied dawn,
Luna who wrapped me in twilight's crown.

So I ride over these streams on a wooden horse, bent to capture
Tigris, the prow that will sink the inevitable past, an occident
Of waving boughs by the murmuring sky.