The Moon and Diomedes

“Think Diomedes and give way, do not aspire to be our equal. Immortal gods and men that walk on the earth are not of the same breed.”

O Selene

I dug my

Black pristine shield into reflectionsand,

And Like a seal with a ball

I pivot on edge, and reach for you.

Colossal,

Black narcissus blooms above me.

Unravelling the bruising craters of your face,

A woundpearl lost in a woman’s silk dress

calmly

Revealed,

Your eyes move in portions over this earth.

Mole-eyed naissance, dirt-trodden

you are a button half done

O with a crack-punch mouth

God,

my glass balloon, was it me?

The Metal man.

Smudging your craters 

Virgin,

I’ll wash off death in your rising water

Just to paint myself in your image.