The Shamisen Player

dedicated to E.

I saw the birthmark
through your golden hose
like an eye of Chinese boar

and I dreamed of it,
walking as I did,
     to the edge of the river.

Such thoughts were conjured in me:

I feel your gums are two nests
of hard lavender,

your eyes two convicts—
the illegible distance

     of a runaway. 

Will there ever be
a century—zodiac,
when we are two animals
drinking from the dark?

     I practice touching your face 
     with the cold water.