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.
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