God! Bring me down a trail of violets -
Bright violets for my love who drinks too much.
For we felt no fault in evenings spent dancing to old songs,
writhing, primordial dancers, our shadows burnt onto the rocks behind by fire
the air gliding around us like water in a stream.
We are heavy things. Our bones are filled with blood
and when we grasp eachother we rip the stems apart
And oily petals seep from underthings.
Dionysus!
Red, thick hot oily petals
Rose petals, broken from the bud
That weep for us, and die for us, as we lie
Clasped together like thorns
Elpenor!
Too late to continue our travels together
I will come back and bury you, I promise.