Carnal Knowledge
I cradle gardenias,
their silence and shine
deep in those leaves I lower my eyelids upon-
the petals' cream-shimmer above the lacing stems
my fingers hide under,
heavy petals and leaves.
My face warm down among the secret flowers.
Even if they were pearls
thus tenderly rubbed under my lips
they would have this soft wax feeling
and the smell of humid summer fallen
upon the first garden of the world.