frumpy like the fates i wait for my bridegroom to love me: love me like helen before she was less-woman-more-beauty, like dido before she died aflame of it
king of all the nymphs in your wild wild glades you call to me; dance with me, compelling, i will gown you in lilies of the valley and crown you with song and sunlight / but i am rooted to the dense dull dirt of the market, painted into the mundane
sometimes i feel your old trysts crawl from their graves, hooking skeletal claws through your heart to mine and i smell their perfume and i cannot help but see you unpeel their linen and carry them gently to your altar to desire, but i don't know who sacrifices whom
frightened thrush, i bury myself into my tomb. but you roll the stone away o angel; you resurrect me and promise me amaranth and rosemary, your iron whalebone grasp on my wrist tells me of strength as you whisper rebirth and forever in the same breath and i believe you really i do
but even lazarus could not rid his hair of earth