Aztec Noon

This I had thought forgotten
I recall now almost perfectly
In the gloom of winter:

Past a cloacal wall whose posters
Decayed like leonine faces,
I took you home up steps,

Strewn with crates and cabbage,
To a room which seemed a tank of light
At the very top of the world.

All summer was a gala Aztec noon
We walked in, hip to hip,
Through odour of the sea's green cistern.