You played at Helen and I at Menelaus.
Ten years I fought to free your captive soul:
so sure was I the gods would not betray us.
Where Trojan walls once stood, I'd leave a hole
in which we'd bury dead kisses like seeds,
and there dark twisted trees with tender fruit
would raise their branches up to one who bleeds -
not angrily but as Love's raw recruit.
Though peace from war is never likely to ensue,
my sails were set and sacrifices made.
How must the gods have laughed when I withdrew:
those walls were mine to which the siege was laid -
and when they fell I found no one within.
My love was gone and I was none but skin.
