#aphrodite
Oh, Aphrodite, marble divine,
Your stoic gaze, your stance supine.
Before your form, I dared to stare,
A boy entranced by secrets there.
Your hand a shield, yet not in shame,
A quiet power, a whispered flame.
You taught me then what words defied,
That beauty blooms where truths might hide.
The fruit unclaimed, the hidden prize,
Holds sweeter depths beneath the skies.
And so you stand, through time's cruel test,
A guarded heart, yet full, confessed.
May 15
May 15, 2026 at 1:20 AM UTC
I behold her, bathing in a foam-fall
ever-growing moonlight
diaphanous, draping her alabaster
*******
Her hair, a bed of nymphaeas
swirling around her —
another land, another time.
She moans through Cyprus stone
I lean like Aphrodite
on the tower balustrade,
the Moonlit Bell twinkles, a mirror
across the fates, under the moon
she sees me too.
Feb 15
Feb 15, 2026 at 3:11 PM UTC
David's prophet
Has only one belly button, until
An ice has melted, for a panic
That reminds you, a **** will...
Habit won, of a friend:
The tired eyes you make, at a vice
Turn of silence, in a chosen name, to end
The dread of *** to whom life has a price?
Politely, a swallow...
Of sharing and caring, is a sly devil
With feet for all, hands for any; a dreams shadow
So to a graceful, but spare cloud; am I a lover's tale?
Done, and given a clash with wonder
The tooth you predict, is mine for another lip
Sacred as a shined coin can be, to a craft of poor...
Isn't is an essence, you hid in a place so asking, could order is...
Find me, in the stir of privacy
And I will give you, the tomorrow of shyness
Where a child with silent opportunity's, stares at infancy
Anarchy's baby, has a safer privilege, thinking a liberty's guest...
And the fingers of devotion, to live better
Than a rollicking candor, of a babe to wander
Into a wish on the way to might, that is the finish of an adult letter
Q, if not thee, in the spirit of a rapture that is a babes laughter...
Jan 30
Jan 30, 2026 at 4:35 AM UTC
strange standard
I want your mind
so ill make a trade with you
give me your psyche
and I will give you a body
think of your private Aphrodite
it will go out and gain experience
and you will be my save point
like conquering aurelias
in perfect tandem anoint
let me serve your ends,
to serve my own
the best of friends
on passions' throne
Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 8:29 AM UTC
You may think I'm stupid
I am not a human
I Chose to be here
I wanted to feel fear
I have not learned
For this I have yearned
We needed to be apart
For me to give you my heart
Jun 17, 2024
Jun 17, 2024 at 5:36 PM UTC
Tender strength, sender's excuse
A sneeze to reach to tomorrow
Avid, we determine a silence was...
A house of compromise, sincerity, and willfulness, to borrow...
Burden yourself with a memory, some other dainty...
A question thought liberty, driven by the wind
Has visited me, in the couth of decency's charity
Simple lessons of anger, and the angel of succumbing kin...
Redoubt is my only defense...
Pied, or provided a callous soul, the taint?
I seek is a lip with no meaning, meant in the essence
We direct to such, a season of wishes, we compare to ain't...
Anarchy in love, the thought to reason
Anarchy in though, the times found me a shown few
Anarchy in decision's, a guarantee of blinder moments
Anarchy in ascertainment, a host of wisdom to look at you
A yawn with no future...?
As shrewd as furious days make a prayer, a seclusion
Catching mine, in measure and deliberate other, is a cure
Forces in voices, and the rationality of mercy; loves only intrusion?
Psyche
Can I have my weight in gold, a tarter heaven?
So wished for, so washed of another fight...
With heaven, to remember succor in forms of resolve to come by, loving...
Dec 12, 2023
Dec 12, 2023 at 12:14 PM UTC
In tales of old, on Mount Olympus high,
Where gods and goddesses roamed the sky,
Aphrodite, fair and beauty's muse,
But whispers tell of a love confused.
In affairs of hearts, her charms renowned,
Yet rumors spread, a deceit profound.
Her love, a tapestry woven with desire,
Yet secrets whispered, fueled the fire.
A cheater in the game of divine affection,
Her heart's allegiance sparked introspection.
For Cupid's arrows, not always true,
In love's labyrinth, confusion grew.
To Ares, god of war, she turned her gaze,
A clandestine affair, a dangerous craze.
In the shadows of Mount Olympus, they conspired,
Love's flame illicit, yet never tired.
The gods above, in their celestial court,
Witnessed Aphrodite's love distort.
For in her quest for passion's sweet embrace,
She left behind a trail of love's disgrace.
But was she a cheater or victim of fate?
In the realm of gods, emotions intricate.
Aphrodite, tangled in love's intricate dance,
A celestial romance, a fateful circumstance.
So, in the pantheon's tales of divine deceit,
Aphrodite's story, in whispers, we repeat.
A goddess of love, entangled in desire,
A cheater or not, the myths conspire.
Dec 2, 2023
Dec 2, 2023 at 10:52 AM UTC
her body shines
and twinkles
under the moonlight.
her hair cascades
over the sheets
and into oblivion.
her hands bring forth
a beautiful melody
of pleasure
derived from pain.
back arching like the sunset
over the sparkling sea--
"come before me."
Aug 16, 2023
Aug 16, 2023 at 3:45 AM UTC
Her figure in my bed
relaxes, half obscured by silk sheets;
there’s a sweetness to her uncovered form,
not in a way that is ****** or arousing,
but for how it speaks of comfort in my presence
like we are so adapted to each other
that nothing is strange or foreign to us—
even the vulnerability of nakedness.
And like a goddess, she pulls me in to her chest,
a whisper of soft and beautiful flesh;
there, I imagine us as once born from the ocean,
with pearl strewn hearts and wanton eyes,
as goddess meets goddess among seafoam and silk.
Jul 24, 2022
Jul 24, 2022 at 3:06 PM UTC
my pretty darling,
aphrodite's beloved,
i will love you when slumber calls for my name
i will love you when the tangerine sun rises in the day
in-between minutes,
the fissures in seconds,
i love you in those intervals
Jun 16, 2022
Jun 16, 2022 at 8:18 AM UTC
Can I be loved?
Or is it overrated.
Is self love enough?
Or am I walking on a thin rope, my eyes, shut closed, I may die in my misery, a façade of continuous joy.
Am I to be loved, in my embodiment of Aphrodite herself.
Maybe I am too closed off.
Or maybe I am too pure.
These contradictions are my addictions and I can never seem to pick between the two.
Maybe love is too good for me, like a curse that strings me to the depths of insanity where love cannot even be justified.
Maybe I am a monster in my drowning tears.
Or maybe, just maybe, I am juxtaposed.
Once they fall in love with me, they fear, run away like cowards with boneless spindles.
My walls so hard, can dynamite even be crushed?
To feel that feeling...
Sensual pleasures...
To hold, to actually feel...
I've lost meaning of the word.
Can I be loved? Or am I too powerful?
Aug 18, 2021
Aug 18, 2021 at 2:15 PM UTC
His eyes are gleaming
as he glistens from afar,
How beautiful it is to have an
Aphrodite like appearance,
I wonder how it would be like
to fell in rabbit hole.
Why it felt like second hand
though we waltzed on a shipwreck
I lost on his footsteps as I tighten the grip on his hands.
I watched the stardust fall from his eyelash,
dreams do come true
as I fall for that hope.
Aug 6, 2021
Aug 6, 2021 at 8:09 AM UTC
POEMS ABOUT EROS AND CUPID
These are translations of ancient Greek poems about Eros. Eros was the Greek counterpart of the Roman god Cupid. While today we tend to think of Cupid as an angelic cherub shooting arrows and making people fall in love, the ancient Greek and Roman poets often portrayed Cupid/Eros as a troublemaker who was driving them mad with uncontrollable desires.
Sappho, fragment 42
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Eros harrows my heart:
wilds winds whipping desolate mountains,
uprooting oaks.
Sappho, fragment 130
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Eros, the limb-shatterer,
rattles me,
an irresistible
constrictor.
Sappho, fragment 54
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Eros
descends from heaven,
discarding his imperial purple mantle.
Preposterous Eros
by Michael R. Burch
“Preposterous Eros” – Patricia Falanga
Preposterous Eros shot me in
the buttocks, with a Devilish grin,
spent all my money in a rush
then left my heart effete pink mush.
Sappho, fragment 22
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
That enticing girl's clinging dresses
leave me trembling, overcome by happiness,
as once, when I saw the Goddess in my prayers
eclipsing Cyprus.
Sappho, fragment 102
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Mother, how can I weave,
so overwhelmed by love?
Sappho, fragment 10
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I lust!
I crave!
Take me!
Around the same time Sappho was writing in ****** in nearby Greece, circa 564 B.C., we have another poem about the power of Eros:
Ibykos Fragment 286
translation by Michael R. Burch
Come spring, the grand
apple trees stand
watered by a gushing river
where the maidens’ uncut flowers shiver
and the blossoming grape vine swells
in the gathering shadows.
Unfortunately
for me
Eros never rests
but like a Thracian tempest
ablaze with lightning
emanates from Aphrodite;
the results are frightening―
black,
bleak,
astonishing,
violently jolting me from my soles
to my soul.
I hate Eros! Why does that gargantuan God dart my heart, rather than wild beasts? What can a God think to gain by inflaming a man? What trophies can he hope to win with my head?
―Alcaeus of Messene, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Have mercy, dear Phoebus, drawer of the bow, for were you not also wounded by love’s streaking arrows?
―Claudianus, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
In Greek mythology, Cupid shoots Phoebus Apollo to make him fall in love with Daphne, then shoots Daphne with an arrow that prevents her from falling in love with her suitor.
Matchmaker Love, if you can’t set a couple equally aflame, why not ***** out your torch?
―Rufinus, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I have armed myself with wisdom against Love;
he cannot defeat me in single combat.
I, a mere mortal, have withstood a God!
But if he enlists the aid of Bacchus,
what odds do I have against the two of them?
―Rufinus, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Love, if you aim your arrows at both of us impartially, you’re a God, but if you favor one over the other, you’re the Devil!
―Rufinus, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Either put an end to lust, Eros, or else insist on reciprocity: abolish desire or heighten it.
―Lucilius or Polemo of Pontus, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Steady your bow, Cypris, and at your leisure select a likelier target ... for I am too full of arrows to take another wound.
―Archias, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Cypris was another name for Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. Here the poet may be suggesting, “Like mother, like son.”
Little Love, lay my heart waste;
empty your quiver into me;
leave not an arrow unshot!
Slay me with your cruel shafts,
but when you’d shoot someone else,
you’ll find yourself out of ammo!
―Archias, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
You say I should flee from Love, but it’s hopeless!
How can a man on foot escape from a winged creature with unerring accuracy?
―Archias, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Many centuries later, poets would still be complaining about the overpoweringness of ****** desire, and/or the unfairness of unrequited love, by which they often meant not getting laid!
Spring
by Charles d’Orleans
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Young lovers,
greeting the spring
fling themselves downhill,
making cobblestones ring
with their wild leaps and arcs,
like ecstatic sparks
drawn from coal.
What is their brazen goal?
They grab at whatever passes,
so we can only hazard guesses.
But they rear like prancing steeds
raked by brilliant spurs of need,
Young lovers.
Fast-forwarding again, we find the great Scottish poet William Dunbar, who was born around 1460:
Sweet Rose of Virtue
by William Dunbar
translation by Michael R. Burch
Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness,
delightful lily of youthful wantonness,
richest in bounty and in beauty clear
and in every virtue that is held most dear,
except only that you are merciless.
Into your garden, today, I followed you;
there I saw flowers of freshest hue,
both white and red, delightful to see,
and wholesome herbs, waving resplendently,
yet everywhere, no odor but rue.
I fear that March with his last arctic blast
has slain my fair rose of pallid and gentle cast,
whose piteous death does my heart such pain
that, if I could, I would compose her roots again,
so comforting her bowering leaves have been.
Keywords/Tags: Eros, Cupid, Phoebus Apollo, Cypris, Aphrodite, love, blind love, cute love, love god, love goddess, bow, arrow, arrows, desire, passion, lust, heart
Feb 22, 2024
Feb 22, 2024 at 8:18 AM UTC
POEMS ABOUT EROS AND CUPID
These are translations of ancient Greek poems about Eros. Eros was the Greek counterpart of the Roman god Cupid. While today we tend to think of Cupid as an angelic cherub shooting arrows and making people fall in love, the ancient Greek and Roman poets often portrayed Cupid/Eros as a troublemaker who was driving them mad with uncontrollable desires.
Sappho, fragment 42
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Eros harrows my heart:
wilds winds whipping desolate mountains,
uprooting oaks.
Sappho, fragment 130
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Eros, the limb-shatterer,
rattles me,
an irresistible
constrictor.
Sappho, fragment 54
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Eros
descends from heaven,
discarding his imperial purple mantle.
Preposterous Eros
by Michael R. Burch
“Preposterous Eros” – Patricia Falanga
Preposterous Eros shot me in
the buttocks, with a Devilish grin,
spent all my money in a rush
then left my heart effete pink mush.
Sappho, fragment 22
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
That enticing girl's clinging dresses
leave me trembling, overcome by happiness,
as once, when I saw the Goddess in my prayers
eclipsing Cyprus.
Sappho, fragment 102
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Mother, how can I weave,
so overwhelmed by love?
Sappho, fragment 10
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I lust!
I crave!
Take me!
Around the same time Sappho was writing in ****** in nearby Greece, circa 564 B.C., we have another poem about the power of Eros:
Ibykos Fragment 286
translation by Michael R. Burch
Come spring, the grand
apple trees stand
watered by a gushing river
where the maidens’ uncut flowers shiver
and the blossoming grape vine swells
in the gathering shadows.
Unfortunately
for me
Eros never rests
but like a Thracian tempest
ablaze with lightning
emanates from Aphrodite;
the results are frightening―
black,
bleak,
astonishing,
violently jolting me from my soles
to my soul.
I hate Eros! Why does that gargantuan God dart my heart, rather than wild beasts? What can a God think to gain by inflaming a man? What trophies can he hope to win with my head?
―Alcaeus of Messene, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Have mercy, dear Phoebus, drawer of the bow, for were you not also wounded by love’s streaking arrows?
―Claudianus, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
In Greek mythology, Cupid shoots Phoebus Apollo to make him fall in love with Daphne, then shoots Daphne with an arrow that prevents her from falling in love with her suitor.
Matchmaker Love, if you can’t set a couple equally aflame, why not ***** out your torch?
―Rufinus, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I have armed myself with wisdom against Love;
he cannot defeat me in single combat.
I, a mere mortal, have withstood a God!
But if he enlists the aid of Bacchus,
what odds do I have against the two of them?
―Rufinus, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Love, if you aim your arrows at both of us impartially, you’re a God, but if you favor one over the other, you’re the Devil!
―Rufinus, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Either put an end to lust, Eros, or else insist on reciprocity: abolish desire or heighten it.
―Lucilius or Polemo of Pontus, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Steady your bow, Cypris, and at your leisure select a likelier target ... for I am too full of arrows to take another wound.
―Archias, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Cypris was another name for Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. Here the poet may be suggesting, “Like mother, like son.”
Little Love, lay my heart waste;
empty your quiver into me;
leave not an arrow unshot!
Slay me with your cruel shafts,
but when you’d shoot someone else,
you’ll find yourself out of ammo!
―Archias, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
You say I should flee from Love, but it’s hopeless!
How can a man on foot escape from a winged creature with unerring accuracy?
―Archias, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Many centuries later, poets would still be complaining about the overpoweringness of ****** desire, and/or the unfairness of unrequited love, by which they often meant not getting laid!
Spring
by Charles d’Orleans
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Young lovers,
greeting the spring
fling themselves downhill,
making cobblestones ring
with their wild leaps and arcs,
like ecstatic sparks
drawn from coal.
What is their brazen goal?
They grab at whatever passes,
so we can only hazard guesses.
But they rear like prancing steeds
raked by brilliant spurs of need,
Young lovers.
Fast-forwarding again, we find the great Scottish poet William Dunbar, who was born around 1460:
Sweet Rose of Virtue
by William Dunbar
translation by Michael R. Burch
Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness,
delightful lily of youthful wantonness,
richest in bounty and in beauty clear
and in every virtue that is held most dear,
except only that you are merciless.
Into your garden, today, I followed you;
there I saw flowers of freshest hue,
both white and red, delightful to see,
and wholesome herbs, waving resplendently,
yet everywhere, no odor but rue.
I fear that March with his last arctic blast
has slain my fair rose of pallid and gentle cast,
whose piteous death does my heart such pain
that, if I could, I would compose her roots again,
so comforting her bowering leaves have been.
Keywords/Tags: Eros, Cupid, Phoebus Apollo, Cypris, Aphrodite, love, blind love, cute love, love god, love goddess, bow, arrow, arrows, desire, passion, lust, heart
Apr 11, 2021
Apr 11, 2021 at 5:00 AM UTC
My fingers dance across your skin
and small constellations I trace;
There rests Aries on your collar,
and Andromeda frames your face.
Though you’ve labeled these stars a flaw,
I can’t stop myself from thinking
Aphrodite herself did bring
these small constellations to being.
Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 2:35 PM UTC
love is a double edged sword
that speaks truths and lies,
aphrodite and ares, venus and mars,
love and war go hand in hand
as does death and beauty
Oct 5, 2020
Oct 5, 2020 at 11:38 AM UTC
I wanted to be a painting,
A goddess.
I wanted to be all Aphrodite,
Body and curves.
I didn’t want Athena’s leadership,
I wanted the power of seduction.
I wanted to be a muse,
Amused by the spellbound stares.
I wanted to be a mare,
Bred into beauty and totality and grace.
I wanted to be nothing less than art.
So the gods blessed me with such
Voluptuous hips and curves.
But I do not want to look like
Renaissance art,
I want to be a contemporary model.
Thin and toned with golden glow.
So now the gods shake their heads
And wonder why they put so much hope,
So much effort, so much and so little
Into me.
Sep 3, 2020
Sep 3, 2020 at 11:23 PM UTC
Aphrodite almighty your reign is eternal
Love, lust, and war, power infernal
Strength in fragility, politics by charm
Eroticism, motherhood, and armies that harm
A simplified picture the masses are sold
Can not erase your reverent powers untold
Aphrodite almighty hear our prayer and return
For your prowess and touch daily I yearn
Jul 28, 2020
Jul 28, 2020 at 6:07 PM UTC
You can search far and wide for a beauty that matches hers.
Only Gaia can hint at the beauty she possesses.
Her eyes are a soft green,
A gentle aquamarine like that of the sea;
They captivate and tranquilize you.
Only Helen's smile is a pale example of hers,
Which leaves you with the desire to see it again;
Nothing in nature surpasses her smile.
The right words will reveal her laugh,
Only the Nightingale's charming melodies can come close;
It is a siren's call that you follow repeatedly to hear again.
She radiates warmth when she holds you,
Like a gentle touch of glow of Apollo on your cheek;
A natural peace can be found when her arms are wrapped around you tight.
Her dark hair is as soft as a cloud,
Yet it runs through your fingers like wild silk;
She is a dark-haired version of Aphrodite when her hair is left down.
You can travel across the world in search of a beauty like hers,
But nothing can match it.
It is not restricted to the mortal body.
You have to look inside her heart to discover its origin.
She is kindness personified,
Her scruples displayed in her actions;
Maybe she is **** reborn into the modern world.
She holds conversations with all,
But she befriends only a select few;
Her exclusive circle open only to those she cherish.
I can wonder how blessed they are to be in her presence,
I only wish to be in her arms;
Yet she has carefully let me in with open arms,
While protecting the parts she is not ready for me to glimpse.
My patience and support she will eternally have,
As a friend, companion, or more;
Her happiness is my ever reaching ambition.
Not even Gaia can compete against this dark-haired mortal goddess,
Whose strength I forever admire.
She will always remain a compelling presence in my life,
No matter the Fates' intentions for our lives.
Jun 23, 2020
Jun 23, 2020 at 5:11 PM UTC
You and I, handcrafted in lust,
borne of sea and blood -
you, of Aphrodite,
and I, of Ares.
The violence of your love
destined to be matched only
by the tenderness of my violence.
And my hands, war-given, strong,
made for battle,
grow soft at your hips, and
softer yet at the cliff of your thighs,
as they crash softly in the bay in-between.
And how these hands long for you, my child of goddess,
long for you like the armor of my chest longs
for your sweet mouth,
longs for your gentle fingertips
in the calm before the storm.
The passion of your tenderness a momentary reprieve
before I go to war;
and when I go, oh, the power that overcomes me,
and the weapons I will bring,
and the blood I will draw.
In the fashion of my father, as he tied Aphrodite's hair
in his fist, and
as he broke down her barriers, claiming her city,
her temple,
her soul.
The lullaby of her moans
reminiscent in your voice,
my favorite sound and
my chosen battle cry.
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 10:10 AM UTC
“I love you” in its kaleidoscope dress dances
like sunshine upon the waves -
does it remind you of something?
Does it remind you of me, my love,
as I sit here and write and break my heart over
entertaining a fantasy;
For you to say my name, just once - just once -
to hear your gentle breath exclaim this personal ecstasy of mine,
this declaration of victory that yes, I am myself!
Finally, instantly -
just one word from your lips - this word - and the fever of
battle inside me rages,
the body ready to swim all seas and win all wars,
to tear up all earth just
for you -
to find you, my lover, yes,
to return to a home of you.
I promise I will, and forever more I shall,
in exchange for the sound of
your rose water perfumed voice
caressing the essence of my Self.
I could
spin this song forever
let it wash endlessly
through the streets of the world, just to
declare my love for you,
just to shout your name into the night
or sing it as gracefully as I could
to infect every heart and ear with my feeling,
this emotion that overpowers me,
makes me crumble, fall to my feet,
lift my voice to highest praise, a taste unfamiliar to my mouth;
praise does not come so easily to me as the blade to a throat.
So have I not done enough to prove myself to you?
Have I not given all my heart, and all my soul, too -
Still no word. No answer.
The hunger inside my heart throws me forward,
edges me closer to the abyss,
the forlorn nothing, the never-ending absence,
a loveless mist to swallow me forever,
and you, my only savior, looking on,
your face a stone-cold mask.
You don’t want to let me in.
Don’t take my hand - for I could pull you down with me,
couldn’t I, my love?
The only power I possess is destruction.
This fragile bird of ours,
I swallow it whole between gnashing teeth,
and snap the neck of delicacy with the careless tongue
of unrequited love.
And who am I, after all,
but covered in dirt and blood, kneeling
at the altar of your love,
begging for my life as if
all the wars and battles won
matter nothing now. Perhaps they don’t -
what good is honor to me if
you crush it with one bare foot?
What good are strength and death and victory if
I was never destined to succeed in the king’s battle -
the last stand my heart could take, only to
lose the fight?
I have died more viciously by the sharp cut of your cool shoulder,
my love,
than I have ever hurt at the hands of a thousand men.
I, warlike, once a God,
wounded and fallen, now,
collapsed without dignity at your feet,
pleading for mercy
and crying, with every sense of emotion,
“I love you.”
Jun 11, 2020
Jun 11, 2020 at 6:33 PM UTC
When Aphrodite was given life
She was born into this world
All alone
There was no mother or father
To greet her arrival
There were no smiles
Cheers of joy
No warm welcomes into life
But Aphrodite didn't need it
She brought her own love into the world
She knew from her first day in life
That someone had to teach the world
To cherish, to hold, to touch, to desire
To caress, to feel, to long, to see
To love the beauty in between
She who gave us the deepest emotion in life
Chased that feeling to hold as her own
But as many tragic stories end
Aphrodite never had such luck or peace
She chose love and love again
But love never chose her back
Jan 14, 2020
Jan 14, 2020 at 11:31 AM UTC