Merciel

I wish I never met you for you raised
my hope beyond gravity’s grasp, light years
beyond what little reason I embraced.
No angel can shift my eyes from heights
not even God can reach and Babel can–
not scrape the bottoms of you feet. I’d build
an ark to ride the floods you kindle with
your emerald fonts to Paradise shores, but
another has already claimed Eden.

Can I survive when forced to settle for
less than you, dwelling depths fathoms beneath
you? Guppies won’t suffice–already spoiled
by manna–can’t stomach the rotten meat
the other women flaunt. Adorn a dog
in jaded jewels and ivory paint; she’d be
no worse than every other bitch who swarms
the churches, bars, and alleys. Dreams of you
taste better than the gruel lapped from those whores;
they’ll never whet my appetite as you
can even distances–decades–apart.
Why then awake? The Sun vanished, the air
dissolved, and this red planet’s life is miles
beneath craters buried in permafrost.