Jupiter’s Pain
She must have been
uncreased once,
embraced inside
those glistening rings,
63 moons in place.
She must have been
a young Pain,
once,
skipping down
a flower lit path,
spotless kneed,
soft palmed,
her unchartered globes
rambling rose kissed,
before gravel
plumed
and fell,
magma bound,
magnetic will,
cored
I cannot see my face
behind her mask.
She must have been
unbruised,
once,
the unpunched stomach,
delicate, as a new
porcelain bowl,
tiny fisted,
tracing veins
in
blossoming craters,
and
wondering
if a fairy’s
breezed song,
lured the
bees’ hearts,
before the spiders
webbed fissures,
across Europa’s
face
I cannot see a woman
when the god of war speaks.
She must have been
near silence,
once,
the unsharded word,
spell bound to the
soughing of new
leaves,
held by Io’s
Love,
that knew no
Hate,
until Prometheus’
rage,
scratched volcanic
thoughts,
inside a sulphur frost
I cannot see Pain
or trace my orbit in her path.
I must have been pierced,
once,
the punctured veil.
Now,
when pain hangs her
jewels,
I will not grasp,
I will walk
prism edges,
refracting,
polished claws clasp,
and her
dreams,
acidic,
will burn clouds
she must have held me,
once,
soft skulled,
an iridescent hope…
Please Welcome my friend Kerry (@Velvetinapurrs) to our poetry world. I met Kerry on Twitter through OSP Chat and know that soon she will have a blog so she can share her work often.
Thanks to Creative Commons and the Lunar and Planetary Institute for this photo of Earth and the clouds of Jupiter
http://www.flickr.com/photos/lunarandplanetaryinstitute/4078049339
penned in moon dust 