Feast your heart on hidden shadows,
carving from pure blackness your meaning for love.
Feast your heart on mysterious lights,
building within you to illuminate the pure darkness.
Feast your heart upon the flames of midnight,
animating the shades of your candle-lit cavern.
Feast well your heart, for in nourishing it
you feed a spirit who lives in the red chambered place.
I dreamed him, the daimon in your heart,
the red one you cannot see.
I heard him caroling in complex rhymes,
the loud spirit you cannot hear.
In the daimons chest shone a crystal mirror.
Gazing there I saw white doves dancing,
singing melancholy melodies which only you could hear.
He said to feast your heart on golden honeycomb,
dripping languorous drops of summers taste.
Yes, feast your heart, my loved one,
licking up more than your share of the daimons dream.