Persephone white-faced
carries her vegetal cross
on a stalk perpendicular

Among the sepals crisping
where they strain apart to show
tips of blushy petals getting set

In the stories that make us
             they wait mysterious
for us to sleep, & wake them

It haunts us, the misappropriated flesh,
be it Pelops’ shoulder after Demeter’s feast
or Adam’s rib supporting Eve’s new breasts,

Anent, ex-president, your cracking down
big time on drunkenness in Russia where
your reverie bloomed in and on the air

Just as the lonely, wicked, wild and glad
eyes know and do not know by letting drop
in every detail of their daily dread

On the tarp was a sketch of the world
done up in blue
where the water was, and green

    At first it was all surprise. The man met the woman, desired.
The moment she gave herself to his embrace he kissed her
everywhere. He undressed and kissed her body. Here she was,

They shrivel and dry.
In heavy wind or rain.
Fall.

You told it softly, not looking at my face,
how you’d been lost a long time
from where you had started.