"Passage" by Alex Dimitrov:
At the St. Mark’s baths Hart Crane washes my hair
and I tilt around the cold porcelain of the basin
with strain and delight, trying to look at him.But before I meet his sea-tempered eyes
I feel his hands easing my head
into the dark water,as if he were a sailor calming a storm
on a ship with insatiable men. …Who am I? I think. And I try to remember
the beginning of beauty—before Orpheus,
before winter—before this man who sings
for the drowning, touches my lips,
and I ignite.
Read the entire poem here.
(Photo by Flickr user Tim Snell)
The Dish 