On:

Your gaze speaksto my own deep iceNot sentimentmore elementalunsettling Perhaps we metin a sculptor’s studioHe shaped my shoulders, necklabored on my breastsYou watchedenigma eyes insetbeard unchiseled How long did we stare?Were we modeledfor common patronsbut cast as amorousgods, to please–my arms, AphroditeAres, your brow Surely we restedin velvet dirt, yourContinue Reading