Wet Dreams.

Narcissus. A strange, extravagant name
With vacant hands and his hair all astray
It fitted the graceful flower he became.
Yet it fitted him too, in its own way.

I bathed, baptised his ancestors for years
And could have told of centuries of men
Assumed I knew all left to know of tears
Of laughter, love. I did not know him then.

My critics call me treacherous, possessive
Tell tall tales of brothers lost at sea
My critics all are mortals, unimpressive
And none of them held any light to he!

From his youth he was fabulous, but cold
He seldom smiled; imperious, cool-eyed
Something in his soul could never be told
And he mourned it at the glittering poolside.

I could not touch, but how I loved to look!
As men drink me, I lay and drank him in
He’d peep at me through the pages of his book
The water made queer patterns on his skin

His body was a prodigy of flesh
Pale as the moon and soft as velveteen
Lips red as fruit, his hair like silver mesh
And eyes were sharp as arrows, and were green.

Yet ne’er a word sprang from his lips until
He came to me as if towards his grave
The air was clear and all the morning still
I closed my eyes and let Narcissus rave

He talked of loneliness – I understood
Of pain, of life (the latter fuelled the former)
His eyes filled, and he sang to me of love
And every tiny drop in me grew warmer

Like rosebuds fallen on a snowy floor
His chest heaved; naked were his two nipples
Then he knelt down beside me on the shore
He kissed me; I shattered into ripples.

My love was flung from me. I heard his cry,
And begged the gods with all that I was worth
Narcissus gave a final, failing sigh
Then he was swallowed by the cruel earth

My darling, my kindred spirit, my love
Now adorned with your hoary petal crown
Made as I was from what the sea is of
How could I help but wade too deep, and drown?

All that we make the gods seek to unmake
And our love did not please their fickle taste
White heads of you now laze across the lake
I touch them with sad fingers. What a waste.

The best way to forget him is in motion
I form myself into a laughing stream
I rage across the desert of the ocean
And pray to wake and find it all a dream

O love! What dreams took root in your sweet head?
Did you think of me often, fair Narcissus?
Did you moan my name in your barren bed?
O love, now we are parted, do you miss us?

So close you lie, yet so far out of reach
I grieve for love I’ve lost and deeds I’ve done
While inches from my grasp, upon the beach
The bright bees dare to kiss you in the sun.