I have loved
now I love
I shall lie betwixt her breasts
in the mood merriment of playful jazz
lust or longing, a wandering
a melancholy jest.
the star of Venus of Heaven
the tragedy of Euridice
we dance the dance of Polyhumnia
and write the words of Callopie.
we are like children
under cover of moon’s somber reflections
memories vouchsafed lying
on night’s dewy grasses.
– Hoc Scripsi
the platitudes of willful resemblance 