Autumn eyes-
Why so mournful?
No Arabian horse
Is more exquisite than you.
I draw the Pythagorean pentacle on your skin
With my Sumerian finger:
Jupiter, Mercury, Mars, Saturn and Venus;
Water, Earth, Air, Fire, and Spirit.
In the sensual time
Will you free your secrets
For the taking?
Will joy reveal itself,
Simple as a glass
Of water?
Pleasure’s edge
Is a place of doom,
Vertiginous
And sheer.
And after you are gone,
The sun will still rise,
Apples, as always, will be either sweet or sour,
Dogs will still run after sticks.
No comments:
Post a Comment