Let us go

Let us go to a place where we are never turning

away from the sun, a place where its rays would

follow us at every angle, angles of mountainside

and volcanic cliffs forged from a sea distracted

by the nymphs that danced on its shores.

Let us go to a place where we feel the tilt of the Earth

inside of us, shaking passports and forgotten worries

from our pockets.

Let us go to a place all in ruins,

where columns finger the tresses

of the sky, tangling the firmament,

waking the Gods who would look upon us

with disdain if it weren’t for the chariot

we’d run like the blazes to the nearest museum

where my love for you is writ in a golden book

that is encased in glass, safe from flash photography.

Comments

[Mr. Middlebrow]

I can't imagine how you found my blog, or why*, but I'm immensely flattered to be linked on yours. Thanks.

It's really lovely here.

*Could you be the one other person in the wide blogosphere who knows "A Drinking Song" is a reference to Keats, not Spielberg? (Not that there's anything wrong with that; just sayin';^)