Whilom seafarers in rapture,
seven minutes in heaven,
then nothing but bathos,
--a woman in bed,
she and Rembrandt quarreling
over fidelity or obedience to her king?
"It is I, Seagull!"
"Everything is fine. I see the horizon..."
Night sky, a blow torch,
a golden rain flowing between her legs,
curled in the veil of imperial lineage and/or arousal,
--ballistic arc,
peering into the hand mirror,
a breach of promise staring back.
"Will the flight
affect your reproductive organs, Danaë?"
"Conceivably...
and how they shall weep
when things go wrong between us?"
Jan 22, 2021
Jan 22, 2021 at 10:50 AM UTC
Whilom seafarers in rapture,
seven minutes in heaven,
then nothing but bathos,
--a woman in bed,
she and Rembrandt quarreling
over fidelity or obedience to her king?
"It is I, Seagull!"
"Everything is fine. I see the horizon..."
Night sky, a blow torch,
a golden rain flowing between her legs,
curled in the veil of imperial lineage and/or arousal,
--ballistic arc,
peering into the hand mirror,
a breach of promise staring back.
"Will the flight
affect your reproductive organs, Danaë?"
"Conceivably...
and how they shall weep
when things go wrong between us?"
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