Saturday, November 17, 2012

But Venus, the bright goddess, bearing gifts

But Venus, the bright goddess, bearing gifts
began the thing with a turn. The morning light
began to obscure her, I wondered if Jupiter
was the same yellow, wondered if the bright

gift of the Sun was infinite. She had said
how she was open like a flower that is
reaching toward the sky. I saw the display
of the heavens whirling, the bent spectacle

of blue-lit atmosphere. O love disorients
me with her tropes in different orders, with
delusions, denials, obfuscates realities

with convoluted illusions. But Venus, bright
and bare above the water, has disclosed
her self in word and name. What do I do?

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