Sappho - Love Without Limits Poem by Titus Llewellyn

Sappho circa 630 B.C.


Aroused? I am no more contented by the lyre,
than my body is depicting change to harps.
Having seduced you doubt and prominence;
cast the contemporary eyes over a matter of things,
warily - you have judged accordingly to discord-
partaking too much the odd variety to which we caper!


Gender pursues itself needy to the self mutterings,
as an otherwise check on one's insanity,
then you scurryan allegiance for valuation purposes
the rudimentary shapes despised by often as not.
So there's symmetry between these gods and mortals?

To deny it far exceeds Lesbos than it does the universe,
we are limiting our region beyond our own capabilities
to share what is unequal by natures standards - untrod.

Gayly does the mirror through one's expulsion,
blame the other for noticing the free range dialect,
associated with whispers that to the ear are furthest most;
when neither resounds in the joy of promiscuous acts:


To whisper than to shout out the true interchange;
I imagine to shut an eye be less permanant for the loss of sight,
but the memorable hiding from relishing this tease,
we are languishing behind the shame of gargoyles,

an ugliness that through the temptiation of the sarcophogus'
to whom orderly fashion sees fit to muse for fashion,
most ardently proclaimed as the lesbian act.

As one we wish to carry on regardless of that image!
the wholeness to one whose nature reserves solely
that stage of metamorohosis, due to a feminine trait,
the caring but domicile warmth, pledging love's survival.