.venus

.

Venus broke the night. She sucked back the stars
and started to shine with her own brightness. Sick
of cold equations and mathematical divisions, all
these diametric fixations, she preyed for a collision;
for the moon to tap into the craters beneath her fingernails.
This, she called The Pruning – the sculpting of Edens
out of satellites and solar winds, wound round her sides.

She’s tithed to her own tides, moodswung as a river
cut through her insides. She's happiest when her blood
is flooded with lovers swept into her depths, sunk into
astral sockets and crater lakes. Dreamdrunk on Venus'
sweet venom, bloated with pride, they float with the tide
as it seeps in, and take their place beneath her skin.
Feeding her Edens' deep sleep in their terra of love.

But alone, she sits and counts on fibreglass fingers,
interlocked in herringbone knots, and the loveless
dove tales of each pigeon-toed goddess. Solo,
she splinters no night, just whispers like a morning scar.

.

* * *

This is it, dear readers - this is as romantic as I get.

Venus is the Roman goddess associated with love, beauty, gardening and vineyards.

The poem also makes a lot of allusions to Venus, the planet, which was named after her. It is often called the 'Morning Star', as it's the brightest natural object in our skies after the Moon. Venus used to have a Moon itself, until they collided. It has a pocked and cratered surface, with several continents, all named after other goddesses of love - including Aphrodite Terra.


More mythology poems:
.diana
.ceres
.vesta