← v7n1, Spring 2008Poetry · Volume 7, Number 1
Faith, Tomaž Šalamun | translator Brian Henry
Precious copper mouth.
I hide, hide my head in you.
I have only one white sense.
The rib from which Adam was made.
Cliffs, how they are spouting.
Azure, how it burns you.
Yours, sleepy and starving.
I am hugging you.
