A message to the Muse: For you are the face that will never die in lakes. This is for your soul as it is for your body. For this world and another. This is not for you. This is you.
The Greeks painted Opheleia.
They painted you
as I am writing now –
artists from different times.
Encountering the timeless
with every wink of eye,
the Elysian Fields on your back,
the elegies and sonnets,
the odes, and the epics
written on your body,
cascading as I trace your waist.
Here is the beauty
that will never die in the sea.
For she is the sea –
her hair, flowing along the calm of spine,
the waves on her chest,
hands; sailing through her gut,
her smile; revealing islands of joy.
the winds in her voice,
pointing this navigator to the the route home.
Take me to where you are.
to where the amaranths
on your cheeks bloom,
to the pearls that reside in your eyes,
the Anacreontean gardens on your body.
Take me with you.