Three Graces

Kissed by the rebel mouth of Dionysus set tight against their fulsome lips; lapped into shapes by intoxicant tongues, arms fused in a chain of swaying hips. Tiptoe this sisterhood of Athena, this trio in bright synchrony; blown back on Acropolis stilettos, risen skirts above the stockinged knee. Aphrodite waged love at closest quarters, hair and smiles in abandonment; cocked ears unto the night owl's dreaming cry, dancing rings on cracked cement. And in their gentle, giddy transit do these Three graces reincarnate; resurrected in neon and nicotine apparel, a vodka cocktail triumvirate. With clicks of glitzy, glittery nails, Beauty, Love and Pleasure burn the midnight oil; the winds of Olympus ply their skin, bled as one with each other on urban soil. A graffiti collision of sensual ephemera sprayed on a backdrop of brick and grime, Three graces raised up by the ancient gods from the mists and depths of mythic time. Oh to see the marriage of their personas bared in a nocturne, driven weeping, only one lone gaze imbibes the miracle for the world and his wife lie blind and sleeping...