Friday, March 4, 2011


A soft whisper in coldest night
Hot breath upon the shuddering frame
Wings that beat without a sound
Eleutherios draws near again

With ample draw of amber arm
Stolen away my lachrymotory
And with moist breath upon the page
Bleeds ink and erases this tragic story

Midnight wings infused with fire
Smokey scent of coffee and spice
Bleeding like Merlot through the air
Surprising my skin like kisses of ice

Eleutherios makes music of sorrow
And turns the fool into a mirror
Colors hychinth with the crocus
Vining, curling, stems growing nearer

Psyche found and Eurydice restored
While Patroclus rests again unmarred
These rivers run back to the pools they spring
And skin glows again, untouched and unscarred.

Eleutherios is the blindness, the veil
Whose amourous breath brings any up
To break reality's sorrowful chain
Whether from the arrow or the cup

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