Wednesday, October 14, 2015

                                   Lesbia whispered

                                              to Catullus

                         I

       you must learn to enjoy
       my hands caressing you
            your skin rippling

         my nails small knives
         dissecting you
flame frost both creating and killing
           in my fingertips 

             let you shudder
                      there
                quiver there
                 tremble
                          
       moan while I’m loving you
         while my hands undo
      all the knots of your body
           & your bones melt
            & you yield to me

            come to me now
                 then my love
          come into the cosmos
              Ε“ther of stars’ gap
                  fills my lungs

          my heels move galaxies
my thighs are pathways to the universe

                  my moment
                time caught
                    time spent
        
                  time flows
                      away me
                         away

                        me


                                      he was as intimate with her
    as crab lice during copulation
            she who stole fish
         who shrewdly calculated
         how to become bankrupt
               with credit cards

      went off to Paris to spend money
        gave expensive gifts to friends
          even left him with a Nikon
     he sold for a fraction of its worth
               careless of money

          now memories flicker in
                  consciousness
            where tendrils of light
        flash in forests of neurons
                        long
       carbon chain molecules hunt
      through his subterranean brain
          working to remove stains
     from a carpet never finding  those
  remnants   filaments of fiber encoded
                 generations ago

         all that Lesbia once was

         mythology is like a stain
         no chemicals can remove
          its archetypes embedded
           seashells in a fishnet
          impossible to untangle
            intrinsic to its design

         she will always be there
                waiting for him
                    at the shore




                                         © Dick Russell, 2015

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