Classic Poem

Sun burned,
Wind slept,
But you, cool, white,
You moved
not wind, nor fire, nor sound.
My blood aged into iron,
My flesh into stone.
On high cliffs I saw you kiss smooth waters,
Your color the orange sails of fishermen on smooth waters.
Rock and iron,
I watched
Until smooth waters rose
Like your white arms lifting
To let down your hair.
Your hair dusk
through which I saw
Your hands at your breasts
As moonlight on smooth waters
Softly, softly here
Waters closed about me like lips after last words.