I turned and saw again a black pool fed by white stream torrent from wet lips of dark stone. I know that before it contained your body white, light and loosed from bonds of time. Naked of moment you stood, become always so, passing itself clad in mortal visible. Warm stone, the first warm stone I knew that truly reached, bridged beneath the body water to hold the cup, the palm, to where your naked body dipped and brushed, where naked we love.