Diana and her many breasts
She is night
Mother of Ephesus
dancing with Her
scant bow
of clouds
pearling all
She waxes
near full
knows Jupiter
has chased for
Venus with Mars
in hot pursuit
towing the spill
trail from here
to there
and here
again too
and that we
can suckle-taste
which rhythms
vine our silver to gold
and back along
to how they
place kisses
in lace along her spine
how their fingers traced
the mandalas of
their eyes in
each arch
each shine
each moan
that says
we must
write everything
in stone
as the wind
can still get in
enough to carve
all these thoughts
we have of Her
so very near
to how She
says let go
to stay
so close
to the beat
murmur
of Her heart
Divine with
milk and
honey veils
removed
one at
a time
EJR (c)
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