An Appeal to Venus

There you are, sprawled out on a love seat

Shivering. I’d come to castigate you, but first

I fetch you a blanket of furs

How could I bear to look at you head on

Already half-faded, a morning star

And like the trappings of a fly your eyes

Are red-rimmed and seeing me

Compounded, chasing my afterimage until

I’ve made you a fugitive from yourself

Venus. You claim to know better than anyone

What love is

Tell me then. Profess it.

Yet you sit quietly

Minding the rain sound

Hit this body, a temple

For the wrong god