Alex Dimitrov - Pa**age lyrics

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 When he tugs at the ropes that are my hair My American youth streams down— One year so heavy, it finds its way under the towel Around my waist and rests near the curve of my thigh 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