You rode forth from a crack in the earth

And drew me into your embrace

Of course, the parallel is imperfect

As the chariot was my own

And I was so much more than willing


You took me to your home

While wiles and strange liquors plied me

And my skittish fear faded

(without disappearing)

And left me yours


You brought me to your land

(For certain values)

And placed me in my chambers

And there you fed me pomegranate

Three. Six. Twelve.

I ate so many more seeds than there are months

And by rules as old as time I must here remain


But luckily

My mother likes you

So the world

Need not

Be fallow

All year long


2 Responses to “Persephonic”

  1. 1 carrie
    November 25, 2008 at 2:14 am

    I don’t say such things lightly, but: LOL.

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