Old Slang

Your eyes could melt a room

Like maybe a lighter held to

A… well, a block of Velveeta caught unawares?

 

Sorry for the analogy, it’s undignified,

But I did kiss you under the moonlight,

And not at a frat party, 

Where we *did* after all mingle,

Before we *did* retire to my third-floor estate,

Where we mingled on different terms. 

 

I remember waking up and seeing

In your face all that ever could be

United in their silence across

Your unblinking lids.

 

I did not yet think myself Ares. 

 

I, standing here, shriveled and old

Am no man to wrest one

From any god or god’s kin.

What is left to me is this isle,

Barren and crumbled, from which

I may yet yell “I am the God of War

Hear me and thou shalt perish!”

Without response and without all”

 

I live and live still.

This is but a piece of stone,

Without you, I have no rock,

But I, mighty Ares, do cry to heaven:

 

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~ by Benji on 10 March 2014.

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