and traded heat for the flickering stars
designed to skim across the twilight
higher than loss
lighter than heart ache
and deeper than him entering me.
Sex hadn't been a union of elements.
There was no volcanic betrothal candidate.
There was no flood of flirtation and mirth.
There was no wind stirring floral Ecstasy.
There was no quivering revelry
moving the ground beneath my feet
but there was me.
On fire, drowning, suffocating, crushed
under the weight of Aphrodite's Bridle
riddled by Eros's arrows not a Sebastian
no gracious, elegant Christian martyrdom
more kin to Narcissus longing to be loved
for himself, and not a perfumed perception
of conjured fantasy but this was me.
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