"Galatea Weeps"

To Stijn, a muse whose inspiration mirrored love's pure purpose: to arrive at the most propituous time, and leave when your blessing has been bestowed.

GALATEA WEEPS

Not every moment

But still often enough

that it clings

incessantly

Your memory

I taste it

with the last flavour of

cinnamon and smoke

In my mouth you dwell

crystalline perfection

Breathe

I hardly dare breathe

lest I flutter even the

corner of recalling you

Lovely man of sun-scorched Days

and briny tang

Even to claim you

for one glimpse

would still be too much

I'm selfish.

I, the Nereid

sultry concoction, birthed

of your longing

cannot compete with

your Mistress

Immortal and Ever-changing.