Aphrodite of Milos: An Execution Of Love, In Marble.

Under turgidtackytrite moon and pinpointpedantic stars

She contemplated the currency of feelings . . .

And the advantages of arms.

Except, she didn’t –

Contemplate.

She felt.

Fool,

Perhaps

Empty eyes

Hide motions of mind

And heart stored in clandestine cache

Inside that wooden crate of precious armaments.

So, she did safely swear by lucidlylackinglovers moon.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s