The god of the earth, Geb, lay down
Under her. And she, so clear and beautiful,
The goddess of the sky, draped herself
Like silk upon him; for she, Nut, most
Azure and bright, did love him, so.
Their love was days and eons. Even though
They were two panes, two hemispheres,
They were as one in love, both wind and dust.
Every morning, she gave birth to the
Ferocious Ra, who shone like war,
Arched triumphantly between them; and at night,
Was devoured into darkness again.
One day Ra envied their adoration,
Their proximity, their infiniteness, their light;
And he raged. He pushed them apart
With steel wings, bright as fire or pain,
Denying their desire forever: only
Ever to touch, hand to hand, foot to foot,
By dawn or dusk. The lovers wept,
Rain descended: so dawn and dusk grew dark.
Now we, too, awake to be separated
By our jealous sun, kept like night and day
Apart from one another: only to touch
By our hands and feet, a love crepuscular,
Tangential to our different lives. We meet
At a purple hour, bruise-coloured sky
And shadowed earth. But our fingertips,
At least, are reminded each to each;
As though across a window pane, our fingers
Press together. I can see you, Geb.
We will lie side by side: but until then,
Our extremities on a faint horizon, touch.