Poem inspired by the title of Sappho’s poetic masterpiece, “In my eyes he matches the gods.”

and speak
for my tongue is broken,
my shoulders dusted with a soft blush
and the full moon
that serves as sole witness to possibility that alights
on my heart.

In my eyes he matches the gods,
the man
who with the slightest inclination of his brow
pours longing into lush reeds in water,
profusely gold
and I hearing nothing but sweet murmur of his voice
become as wind,
urging the night to linger awhile.

Savagely dark, I surrender to the sound of his breath
circling me
as clouds, as a flock of ravens wild,
I write him poems and make love on paper
lips as sour cherries,
I contemplate as outside the trees sing his name.

To wish a darkness in every eye that dares to lock with yours
is paradigm shift

tell me, is it so inscrutable a concept for me to want you
all to myself?
a wanton wave washes over me,
as I desire for meeting of souls, of fingers running through hair
and caressing my skin,
surely you must feel the same?
But all must be endured since even a poor hungers for bread,
your only cruelty is that there is smoke
and heat and flames
but you know not passion: it burns for you.

 

 

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Posted for “Wild Friday: First Edition” @ Poets United