ECLIPSE

What is this sudden blue shift in you as though

you are a moon and it is the day after tomorrow?

I can no longer find the craters in you I used

To fill with fingers, eyes, lips; there is an

untoward eclipse and you drift like some

wayward satellite defying gravity.

This is the phase you desire, then.

Will you wander forty years or more in the

wilderness of celestial silence?

Luminescence slips through my palms like air;

I can't tether you to anything.  Your hair, still

black as night, is too much for Artemis,

Oh, surely she has stolen you, but no – that virginal

Ephesian chest suckled neither man nor child,

though her chamber of chambers was indeed

a hunter, perhaps even of hearts, souls.

This loss is lunatic! after so much time

grafted like mottled green cheese.

Metamorphosis almost always hinders.

Today, The clouds are giant spider webs,

diaphanous across your dopplered face.

I can still sense you peripherally but

having to unfocus this way is despairing;

your flickered beam is gray as a

worn and non-reflecting spoon,

whereas you used to wax white,

an eighth wonder

brilliant as high noon!

Copyright 2008 Julianza Shavin