Would
Would that the Gods bound me,
Entombed me,
Contained me.
Perhaps I amuse them.
Grafting the arrow on the rose-
Would that they never plucked me from eternity.
Left me in primordial bliss.
Warmed but liquid stars,
Dead and alive.
Now I dance to music I can’t hear
With no partner to guide me.
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: