for Greta

you are a firebird frozen in dew
a dagger of desire sheathed for fear of conquest
you are a sister and an echo and a sin
a whirlwind of fire and victory laid to soft sleep
and for a moment
death is drowning  
in the blue havens of your headlights
such delicate morning stars
burning maritime chasms
over bottomless lust
and the sirens and the sun are in your voice even though you are silent
and precious you are and distant and that is well for i know not how to touch that which is close
but let me warm my bones for a while in the colour of your face
and flap my silly wings around your ghost
hand in hand over the precipice we go
far beneath the snow the sorrow melts
or would if i were brave enough to feel
the hues of love and laughter on my lips
and rain them careful upon your lap
like rare pelts to smother the trembling terrors
and liberate light
no longer in the gutter where the gods shit their droppings of shame
of heartache and confusion
of fear and regret we would make for ourselves a towering future
a windswept ascension through cosmic spheres to carve our names upon the throne of the highest
and to drink from the wounds of heaven the wine of ferocity
to weapon our resolve

and we fell from heaven joyous and free
and i fell from my fancy as you fell from me
and i am damned and desperate
and i hope that you are not.

and the wind is warm with the flesh of youth
and the wars fought over grace and truth
i find are lost
but you who were born in the eye of the storm
the prizes of poets in feminine form
will surely be granted more
so heed me, Greta, regardless of the cost,
become the mirror black,
take my heart upon your sceptre that it may serve as a beacon to others,
and sculpt, in tones of joy,
a queen of moon and sun for all of nature to adore.