Pacific

I am your Endymion
O, my Selene--
Undying and beautiful
As you commanded.
I wait, my eternal sleep
A thing of the past.
A fragile thing,
Broken, for how could it last?

Yet she, so golden and so fair,
Entwined in Apollo's light
So bright and dead,
Is yet a dish of apples in a crust--
With caramel sweetened is her breath,
With my longing flavoured,
Beauty-crisp in glory found.

O, but my lady is a Lazarene,
The fair flame-bird
Burnt in Oriental spices,
Forever, like me, to slake her hunger
Upon my bovine backbone.
But she is my weight to bear,
And mine alone--
In yielding to you,
I am resilient as stone.
(finis)
Thursday, 21 February, 2008
7h01 pm