You are more than my sight for you see
what I bear of your life in my eyes.
And so I walk blind to myself
illumined by my eyes that burn
with the fire of you.
You are more than my hearing for you hear
what I bear of your voice in my ears.
And so I walk deaf to myself
full of your tender inflections.
Your voice alone!
You are more than my scent for you smell
what my nostrils bear of your odor.
And so I go in ignorance of my own aroma,
exuding your perfumed precincts,
a sudden garden of you!
You are more than my tongue for you taste
what I bear on my tongue of you alone,
and so I go insensible to my flavors
tasting the delight of yours,
the taste only of you.
You are more than my touch for on me
you caress your caress and spill over.
And so I touch on my body the pleasure
of your hands set afire by mine.
And I am only the living mirror
of your senses. The faithfulness
of the lake in the volcano’s throat.