It was upon a moonlit night,
Upon a night, with the moon so round
You, who were mine of divine right,
Floated in the lap of this uncertain sound.
Your hair was smoke,
A shade darker than the velvet
That the night had wrapped.
You traced fairy lights in the night,
A long roughly carved out snake;
“The birds, the birds!” you screamed,
And you were right,
The fire was burning bright.
Your arms were spread
Like Aphrodite’s archway.
This misfit’s euphoria was bound
In your moonflower eyes.
