letters in an empty room (part 4)
🕑 Added 2024-12-02 00:17:54 +0000 UTCSweet Cyanne,
Did the Gorgon blush to see you?
Did she smile?
Did she wave?
Did she run up close to greet you,
To pay reverence upon your pearly face?
Did she feel the need to keep you
Locked inside her lapid gaze?
Did she covet your aesthesis,
An elegance to steal away
In galleries of stone-cast sculptures,
Safe for keeping, safe from vultures,
Who would peck and pillage
At your body
For any scrap of warmth left undevoured
By those rabid
Ravenous creatures
Which cling nightly even now upon your stiffened lips?
And these nights grow frozen, ever frigid.
Is it because of our world's arctic orbit,
Or itinerant Aedarsha's drift,
Or yours, my sweet
And fleeting warmth,
Which with the darkening of every memory
Petrifies my heart as well?
But I am not alone these nights,
Fortuitous am I to have
The generosity of my oft-maligned
Eight-legged guests
Who sit and in their idle knitting
Offer me their kindly quilts.
Whereupon you've been my egis
Let the baton at length be passed.
I shall for you create a casket
A stone-cast bulwark, so exquisite,
That fair Snow White shall by contrast
Wilt with envy, apple-green,
At the inviolability
Of your final rosen sanctuary.
Take that, o elder poets!
Take this, o brother bards,
Ye grim narrators of girls' fancies
And the many miserable portrayals
Of their "true love" princes--
Whose medicinal kisses I've administered
To nil effect a thousand times--
And who within their maidens' slumber act
No differently than touch-starved brutes.
Through my art, I shall see their every fairy thread unraveled,
And impound the wild beast once and for all.
