An Ode to Muses to Melpomene

Adam & Lilith

What does it feel like to walk on rubies instead of scorching bone marrow?

To have the comforts of a sinner, while saints seem to lack experience?

A lifetime of all the luxuries, except for one.

You said you never fancied what was not given on silver trays and spoons,

That those spoils were not worth losing your one-thousand and one nights.

Now, you turn to me with alcohol in your breath,

While the veins burst from your eyes

And say you can't pay for my affections.

You use my name to curse your past

And negotiate the terms of my dowry.

You may drink me in small doses,

Though they are not enough to impress your comradery.

Lay your evaporated soul on my body's sweat,

Tell me I smell like pirate's rum,

And take me to your Treasure Island.

I say your scent intoxicates me without the elixir of truth

And that I prefer abstinence of the mouth.

I do admit that I poison my grapes and dye them to match your royal robes.

You say you prefer the emerald green in my eyes and take a bite of my body,

Telling me that you built a tolerance to toxins and that I measure up to red, French, wines.

You throw me into a medieval castle

And point my windows away from your kingdom's view.

I don't know how far above me you reign,

As I admire the gentle words of your poems,

Instead of speeches.

I don't wake up with the sun when you climb these brick chambers,

Not even Helios travels past this horizon.

You refuse to let me drink ambrosia to revitalize my sight,

Which is crisscrossed with charred olive branches and blood-stained pomegranates.

Tell me that as we lay nude in the bed frames of coffins.

In infinite slumber,

We are that much closer to making love to death.

I sleep still with my eyes open,

While you call me an angel,

Which I fear may soon become my reality.

So, I watch over you as nightmares invade your third eye.

I rip the puppet strings left on your skull

And draw circles around you in salt.

I blow dust off of the amulets of protection you braid into my flesh,

You wear them in my presence as the chain beats between my breasts.

Please, wrap your sacred guardians around my neck.

I fear the title of Angel was justified

Because my name is not Eve, Persephone, or Demeter

And a fallen angel,

Can be a woman.