In his own agony and ecstasy he saw the passion coursing

Through the veins of the marble, and in his own he knew

Only he could release it: how the work of desire and his hands

Would sanctify stone, each dimension reverence and revelation.

How worship is first a faith in what is sensed but not seen,

A truth irreducible, and what is revealed becomes she eternal

And he mortal, she above him and he kneeling before her,

Into her, lips kissing her heart in a genuflection of adoration.

Or is it a less humble prayer of supplication and seduction?

It seems they will make love, or perhaps this is the moment

After and he has not yet slipped from her, still entwined, the light

Caught on their joined bodies and on their coming into it.

But it is the shadows that reveal the curves and clefts of their

Joining in an embrace of light and dark and stone; both immortal

Now in the eternity of their passion and the benediction of his hands.