Desert

I hadn’t had a chance to bury her this way before,
The little discs of silver shimmering between the sealing wax -
Her face empty to the moon, her eyes sealed tight
Almost like she didn’t want to see

I laughed, the whole great study of it all –
Too much like drama to move the theatre outdoors,
Too grand by far for this forgotten dryad
Left rotting on the forest floor for leaves and worms to munch on

She turned to me and said “Boy, you’re confused –
I am not Persephone.” That look said it all, the wax
cracked open when she talked, the coins fell sidewards
And clattered to the dust, bare and silent

“I’ll be yours at the Orpheum tonight” I said -
Tilted so, I watch her dark skin glisten once again and reach
trembling towards me. I can’t be hers either - so I leave her to the Styx
and its dark judgement as I creep my way out of the desert.