In an empty room
within an empty house,
within an empty house,
stands a figure: my Persephone
A feast of colors blooms arounds Her.
/
I enter at the back,
through Her kitchen's door--it's unlocked!
Her back faces me. Her dress is
white, terry-textured and embroidered in
through Her kitchen's door--it's unlocked!
Her back faces me. Her dress is
white, terry-textured and embroidered in
indigo blue; softly it kisses the floor.
Her back slowly turns to the left,
Her back slowly turns to the left,
Her shoulders too,
and Her eyes welcome mine…
and Her eyes welcome mine…
\
I am famished,
famished from enduring Her enduring
absence and barren from our forced
separation. But I am not too late:
Her belly grows...
and we are still young.
/
... I approach Her.
Her face is mine;
weariness warmed with relief and desire
weariness warmed with relief and desire
pour from Her eyes and fill us both...
My arms embrace Her, Her arms embrace me
and gently we rock from side to side,
turning in a circle…
