22 November 2017

Mon, 11/27/2017 - 23:55 -- augustc

22 November 2017 - 1:42 am

 

i saw you once

 

with bare feet scampering through a far-off forest
eyes shooting arrows from your lycian bow into my psyche 

 

sometimes i wonder if that arrow was of Eros' quiver instead

 

golden boy with the golden curls and the golden lyre and the golden tunic and the golden smile and the golden youth and the golden sandals and the golden bow and the golden quiver and the golden heart and the golden warmth of the sun that permeates the body far deeper than a sunburn ever will.

 

22 November 2017 - 2:08 am

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741