At night Chinamen jump br on Asia with a thump br br while in our willful way br we, in secret, play br br affectionate games and bruise br our knees like China's shoes. br br The birds push apples through br grass the moon turns blue, br br these apples roll beneath br our buttocks like a heath br br full of Chinese thrushes br flushed from China's bushes. br br As we love at night br birds sing out of sight, br br Chinese rhythms beat br through us in our heat, br br the apples and the birds br move us like soft words, br br we couple in the grace br of that mysterious race.