cups (reversed)

And in the midnight

I clutch handfuls of my petals

Hair stuck along my brow

as I weep into rivers that

threaten to meet the brine

through which we rushed

That rush, I liked

for a time

Salt withered and dried my skin,

and the eager, petulant sun

blinded my practiced sight

I grasped for the bouquet

bouncing along your saddle

but it too had withered and dried

That loss, it teased

my childlike grip

Through an era I descend,

memory rushing past my ear

but the Fates, they catch my fall

with transfigured ancient earth

The Fates, they watch me crash

Eyes like star-shine in disguise