I remember the night we made camp
There on the Sands outside Giza.
The desert air turned cool beneath the stars
As we coupled before the
jealous eyes of the Sphinx.

The Great Pyramid fairly shone
bathed in moonlight.
We thought we were being discreet,
That only the stars saw our pleasure
But the cold eyes of the sphinx saw us too
And she must have sworn a vendetta.

In the valley of the Kings
There was rumor of a tomb.
A tomb untouched by robbers’ hands
My love, Selene, and I
Would enter and there behold.
The face of a pharaoh, a boy,
rendered forever in gold.

There must be some rational reason
For the cough Selene developed soon after.
Like some delicate flower she wilted.
Some virus had strangled her laughter

We didn’t know then of the curse
How could we; we hadn’t been told.
My darling Selene would soon die
And I ,too,  would never grow old.