Roz Kaveney (rozk) wrote,

Aphrodite Burlesque

Somewhere out in the light, the goddess' face
most of what stabs my eyes with light. My tears
burn down my cheeks. We've been like this for years
or so it seems. The details of this place

are vague. A vast yet maze-confusing hall
where velvet tatters hang. Are those her dress?
Parts of her skin? I hardly want to guess
what she'll take off. The sultry drawl

with which she summoned me to watch her dance
let no refusal, but was full of threat
of painful things that have not happened yet.
Each time she calls me here, I take the chance.

To glimpse in mirrors fragments of desire
that chill to stone, heat beyond flame or fire.
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