Michael John Pickering's poem reads like a quiet love note written late at night. The speaker addresses a lover and says that this person is turning something dark and rich ("succulent darkness") into a kind of Mexico, a place of heat, color and abundance. What this replaces is the speaker's "drought of innocence," which suggests a dry, plain, perhaps inexperienced life before the love arrived.
The second part moves to a night scene. Lamplight falls on black water and breaks into "dragons of carnival," so the reflections look like festival creatures wriggling across the surface. Then the poem turns inward: the lover sleeps, and the line "you sleep turns in my hands" suggests the speaker is holding them as they shift in their sleep. The mood is sensual, tender and a little dreamlike. The speaker seems grateful and amazed, and the poem's bright, strange images make ordinary night feel festive.