The heady scent of purpose-fallen flowers
Speaks of celebration, follow the people;
The smell of pollen mingling with their sweat -
Brought on before the dancing
The young muscled man with the light brown hair
Stands in shoes that seem too big without his father there
The crowd follow his motions, whispering excitedly
And I see him rub the palms of his hands
Distracting them
From the monstrous lump, swelling in his throat
He looks at me for reassurance
(look up and banish it)
then she entered
Creamy colours swirled about the perfect curves of her beautiful body,
And his eyes followed the folds as they moved gracefully
Falling
Around her
And he gazed at last, gasping,
Into her summer-dark eyes
A father's hand releases hers
The ribbons of matrimony falling free
And taken up gladly
By the one she dotes on
Palms, rubbing,
Sweat, Mingling,
Eyes touching,
Whispered lovelinesses
In the silences
then the vows were over
The rough material of my toga
Brushes against my overly-sensitive skin, stinging mercilessly
A saddened glance
Is somehow shot across that crammed place
And bores into these eyes of history
Where tears will not fall until I reach my bed from
Thoughts which remain firmly imprisoned inside my head.
I am Alexandria. I am strong.
Author notes
This is a sad part of a story of a man who in childhood is called Gaius and falls in love with a slave girl, but she turns down his partnership because of her status. She has determined to buy herself free one day, but will not let it be done 'in his bed' as she puts it. He gets married to someone else, a daughter of Rome, named Cornelia.
Then to be Cornelia Gaius Julius Caesar.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Chilling
You're such a genius wordsmith and I'm sure if you know it.
When I read the author notes I suddenly got a very strange surge within me, that feeling when you suddenly get some life-altering news...which is a very strange response when reading a poem, apart from when it is really good!
It is sort of...funny...in a strange way at points, but I don't want to use the word funny...it seems to degrade the poem. I can't explain it myself, so I'm not sure why I am mentioning it. But it brought a smile to my face, a foolish child-like grin which only gets displayed when I am by myself, and precious moments those are too.
The use of historical fact accentuated the power of the poem, which already is a fantastic read.
Wonderful and encaptivating.
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