The moon assumes her voyeuristic perch

月亮决心停在偷窥者的位置

to find the rut of me, releashed from sense,

要找到我内心中的骚动，从感官中释放

devoid of focus ’cept by your design.

没有聚焦，只遵从你的设计。

I never thought restraint would be my thing.

我的字典里从来没有“规则”二字。

Then you: the hole from which my logic seeps,

然后是你：渗透出我的逻辑的小洞，

who bucks my mind’s incessant swallowsong

它约束了我心灵不断吞咽的歌声，

& pins the speaker’s squirming lyric down

并轻松地锚定了演讲者挣扎的抒情，

with ease. You coax a measured flood, decide

你引诱出一场可以被度量的的洪水，

the scatter of my breath & know your place—

决定我呼吸的散播，你知道你的位置——

astride the August heat, your knuckles tight

跨在八月的炎热上，你的指关节紧扣

around a bratty vers, a fuschia gag:

我们相互的百无禁忌，一个品红色的口球——

you quiet my neurotic ass, can still

你让我神经质的尾部平静，

the loudness murmuring beneath my skull.

让我头骨下面吵闹的嘀咕停止。

Be done. There’s nothing more to say.

完结吧。不需要更多的语言。