Pulsar

When I grabbed the check, you winked
film noir lashes, tippling
fingers of gin
lacing through me after
one more whiskey,
my heart drumming surrender.

As we danced, the fairy
cast us in peridot,
in hues of jealous stares,
your silken glove
at my throat.

When we whirled as
Inanna and Freyja,
star-flung beyond all
sparkling nights
before and after,

You said we could be them,
see Stockholm
and the cold birch that
bleached your life away.

Still, I sent you home.
I ran from cerulean
toward dawn, fearing
the price of
this strange faith.

I willed no memory
of that wrenching fall
nor of the star
in your crown, pitched
from its setting, aimless
and tumbling
just for you.

But when cold burns my lungs
and neon gleams on
lacquered nails
I will taste faraway snow,
dark honey, (ecstasy taken)
to the grave.

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