I need the stars to take my mind off you
I need the Hellenistic drift of rife
yonder tenets swimming their own blank tract
resolutely, soon drowned out by the sun

I need insomnia and satellites
I need afflictions with post-modern heads
stationed nightly watch across obsessions
unhinged, unmoved by Psyche given space

I need angelic choirs led on by God
I need a pantheon of sound refrains
or anything you think instrumental
noted directly, to replace your myths

I need the swiftest arrows cast like nails
I need for Eros to build love’s walls so
I may have one thing other than your eyes
upon waking, to call my solid home

I need eternal words to burn away
I need brief annotations read aloud
thundering into existence and then
silence, rest, from all we spoke years ago

 Copyright © 2015 · Elizabeth Ganot · All Rights Reserved ·