Ganymede's Cup
I never saw him
coming. Cool stream after the climb--
stretching to dry, I could see father's towers.
He shrieked once, my arm in his talons
grappling me deeper in down.
I almost called out, but
he spiraled, released me,
and spoke:
Beautiful
For a moment I was free
falling, then my legs felt his wings.
Firm on his back, we passed the city.
Young prince
he said, and I swear
he laughed.
Aegean waves an ivory and lapis brooch,
we rode the wind in silence,
swirled through opaque air
till I shivered from cold and confusion.
We topped the rain, and
there was the mountain.
He circled the walls of the palace,
pinioned and dove through the portal,
couched me in silks,
disappeared.
I never recognized him.
When he strokes my naked
thigh with the feather,
I remember--light
in his arms, I ride him
again, and again
his lips are soft words:
Immortal.
I've seen father's land
fall to foreign hands;
I've seen my chosen bride
still a virgin. Each night I dream
of Hebe, and wonder
if she saw him
going.