The Flight of Diana, August 13th, Aricia

she takes off her clothes
to spill the blood of another
two-story god
with a building in his body
and vines cracking his facade

she spins around the room
to watch the moon until morning
and lays her sheets upon the ground
where they’ll soak up the stains
of what yesterday made

she combs out her silky hair
for the only secret she ever had
and tosses herself from the balcony
where upon the piny heather she lays
to rise again unscathed

the forest will hide her now
though she remains carved in marble
in some courtyard under a long lost mezzanine
and there a boy mourns her body
while she watches from between the trees

~ by two of us, riding rainclouds on June 19, 2009.