Affected Apricots and Sad Departing

Blurred by the moon and by the lingering effects
of consuming affected apricots;
the sweet juice on my skin, apricot skin,
bleeding quietly except for the minstrels
singing funeral dirges in the back room.

We are playing abroad with clarinets
and with aberrant calculus.
You hold her well in sweet anticipation,
in sweet antiphonies of strange divisions.

Stoop now. Duck low through this
burrow that will lead us
to our aching destiny
and our sad departing.

All this and you, you accepted
and accustomed me.