My bedroom is lush with languid fragrance
Limpid in lamplight while the tendrils of wisteria
Loosen their purple locks — come with me
As jasmine curls against night’s pale neck,
As a sprig of hyacinth barely budding from
Its bulb and still slender in the dark —

Let me adore you with the idolatry of the daffodil,
With the moony tenderness of a madwoman
Lovesick for lilac and lilies of the valley —
See the petunias that flutter in their pink slips,
Consider the pale-throated tuberose
That aches and nods itself to sleep.