Treasure Island

darren thomas


Sappho


I went to see her yesterday
hanging
like sorrow should hang
still and beautiful
alive with grief.

I wanted to talk with her
step into her sable world
her mind, her heart
yet before I could, I will swear
that she turned her head toward me
challenging me to the coldest gaze of loss

and in that briefest of moments
I saw a glint of golden recognition
in those eyes of deepest hurt

beguiled yet moving closer
I imagined in her grief that she believed I was Alcaeus
where she would spend her waking moments
gazing and listening
for the melody in the dead souls of poetry's meanings
or sitting upon the breath of each and every word we spoke
so
I could inhale the complication of her beauty,
stroke the weight of burden from her despair
where each of us will perish with our own will
from the greatest pain of each other’s unrequited love
or the sullen, expectant tide.

Submitted: Monday, April 08, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, October 09, 2013

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