She had meteoroids falling from her mouth
when she spoke, a wish waiting
to be granted, and she murmured
to the young Adonis: forget me not,
and he, bare-faced, beautiful, perhaps
more than she, held her in his arms
as if she were Aphrodite herself
and promised: forget me not.
He always said the planets
aligned when they met, the sun
alight in her laugh and the moon
alive in her smile of darkness;
and he, alabaster, like a work
of Duquesnoy, shattered as the meteor crashed
through his love, terracotta rooftop,
the forget-me-nots burning, his hands stained like merlot.
And the girl with bluebell eyes,
stars on her tongue, teeth like the milky way,
looked to the angel-faced boy and hissed:
forget me not.
