December

Cupid’s wings fluttered

and the fated arrow struck

when we sat on a mountain

beneath the constellations.

Now, not even Apollo in his chariot

can bring the sun to shine all of the day

over our long distance love.

As we write this epic together,

weaving words from the furthest horizons,

ringing prayers to hasten time’s slow ebb,

my Achilles Heart aches ceaselessly for you

where Thetis’ love made me weak.

I would send a thousand ships over the edge of the world,

I would slay the son of Troy and burn his city once more,

I would throw Charon’s coin into the icy tide of the Styx,

fight all the gods of all the pantheons,

just to look into the pools of your eyes once more.

Even if my vision was turned to stone

and December never came.