I was reading through the Copper Canyon Reader to try to find a poem for today. This was the one I liked best, an odd, off-beat love poem:
Empire of the Senses
Love, the back of your
mouth is delicate as
mushrooms, caves,
or even moths that come out
at night after painting sugar
on tree bark, feathery,
blanched and translucent
from flashlights. Had I
a hundred tongues yours
would be the kindest and
most radiant: the last
time I saw anything shine
like your gums was at
a pond encircled with
cattails and coarse-tipped
grasses on which beetles
climbed, hard-shelled
and bright as hammers.
Tung-Hui Hu