Air Perfumed with Smouldering Frankincense Comes Ashore
Antony and Cleopatra, Act II, Scene II
The way that Paris floats around inside
The heart and levitates around my mind,
The way gold-trimmed, though black, gondolas glide
So near my lungs and try their best to bind
Strong tethers to my ribs, these are the ways
The memories of our time together drift
In hidden spaces, or, more like the stays
In girdles memories give a gentle lift.
Yet more like Athens and those brothers in
Sword, Spartans, muscled up with love as stern
As love can be, my memories are like sin,
Like warships filled with pitch and set to burn
Up nights without you. In the ways that large
Legends lurk, you are Cleopatra’s barge.
