11-01-2017, 11:37 PM
Galatea
I can't stare into your smiling face and think
that I should never conjure up a face
as vivid as yours with words alone, or even
stone -- perhaps I need
to ask for the Lord's forgiveness,
to feed on the fruit the dove selects,
to learn the vital art of description
and not fall into the old obsessions
(out of the remnants of shooting stars, Pygmalion
sculpting red hair, green eyes, and the implied)
perhaps, between the two of us,
there is no mythic narrative to tell,
only the one decision: for love is a decision
no smiling face can make for the beholder.
I can't stare into your smiling face and think
that I should never conjure up a face
as vivid as yours with words alone, or even
stone -- perhaps I need
to ask for the Lord's forgiveness,
to feed on the fruit the dove selects,
to learn the vital art of description
and not fall into the old obsessions
(out of the remnants of shooting stars, Pygmalion
sculpting red hair, green eyes, and the implied)
perhaps, between the two of us,
there is no mythic narrative to tell,
only the one decision: for love is a decision
no smiling face can make for the beholder.