Persephone

1.
Mother, I love you. But with the dead
we drink differently, holding the cup
in the left hand, pouring the wine this way
into our mouths. Please understand.
What we do not say, I still mean;
the sound of purple drowns those other words out.

2.
Oh, Mother, there is so much time, you
can't imagine it: sand slipping through
a needle's eye. Dead seconds fall and
fall through earth like single leaves.
Do you want to know about the lost?
Plum-colored petals floating on the deep.

3
Yes, I ate them. I don't remember
how they tasted, only the moment
before: those six seeds held out to me
pearly, translucent, almost singing
All I need to do is close my eyes
to feel the world streaming under my feet.

4.
Pull down your arrow from the bow: you see
I have grown used to that other sun.
Here even your sweetest fruit shrivels,
half of every flower is shadow.
All your other children die: but I
am the stillness in a frozen star.

5
He calls me his obsidian angel;
I am an adamantine queen
on a throne of silver. Now do you see?
What kind of girl would wear an iron crown?
I believe it was always there
in my nature; perhaps you were afraid to speak.

6.
Thear him ringing my hour. Someday
I will tell you about falling, and what
rises out. Don't always wish for otherwise:
I have had enough of always, for now.
Once I was too glad:
this world does not permit such things.