I wait with quivering skin at the coolness and thickness of the air,
Pressing my face against the screen, taking it in,
And like feathers against bare skin during nights of quiet ecstasy
I can feel Him there.
The scent of the sea and night- flowers, of secret pathways,
Evidence of his legacy, they follow him.
And a voice hushed by the most graceful of the naiads,
In her moment of madness, greets me with whispers,
As I turn to Her, He my lover.
It is strong, the hypnosis of one who has known
Shame and regret and grown through that, into something resilient.
A god of the secrets of man, the hushed whispers and feared unions
That within their world can’t seem to stay destroyed.
And through dark, heavy lashes shines the glowing proof of family line
Flames wrapped in blooms of hyacinth; my Erote spreads gull-gray wings
And I can not remember anything so beautiful, desirable, forbidden.
I wrap my arms around the ivory form and breathe the scent of
Balance, of acceptance, and deepest mystery; of my god.