Stavlos.

The gates,
built in his absence,
to keep this place secure…
they shake,
they rattle,
woe they say,
the gatekeepers,
never forewarned,
of the bridges burned;
and here rides He,
my Champion,
fast-approaching,
all-encompassing,
horses galloping,
a God of the Sun,
the skin of bronze,
the heart of strong,
the lifetimes,
and lifetimes,
I’ve listened,
so many times,
naked and sprawled,
entranced and enthralled…
by my returning,
Champion’s victory song,
destiny, it’s called,
this string tied,
from his heartbeats,
to mine.

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