From Moon To Minotaur

From moon to minotaur The gospel unwinds The tangled mass In the memorial of our myths. The woman there seems black to me I guess she is naked now In her ivory world of light It is her silence I admire For her words have me caused me pain And stained joy more Than the noxious sips of wine. So I have read the scrolls And seen my heart transfigured Into the meteor of his eyes Tell her do not start the dancing yet I have one more laugh to make Before the pyre of my death. I stand below in the light of her sovereign legs And keep looking up To see her in her scarlet dress Blowing like wisps of clouds into obscurity When the last iceberg of the moon is gone She pours her wine on the tongues of kings And made my world a marginal hell here The thread is broken not the stream I caught it in rivulets of faith I cannot fear the wine giver still Though once I suck in bitterness her breast The carnage of their chaos is done in me And I stripped to the insecurity Of my trembling nakedness. Laugh at old Perseus And his finite ball of thread The moon is not as far as it use to be But the hero is not here who will save him For Perseus is not invincible again Without his staggering line Of thread in the cavern dark He cannot face the minotaur Where I kneel, alone.