Dreams beyond a poet's heart - a poem by Chris Zachariou

beautiful butterfly

..Menelaus's Lament

My beauty queen,

on your knees before for your King.

My clothes are made of denim—

and my shackles are made of love.

Your long black skirt is made of silk—

now take it off and lie down.

My chaste queen,

your ways in the art of love

astound and amaze me.

I feast on your flesh

you writhe and howl all night

and your juices trickle sweet

into my eager mouth.

Ah, Menelaus, decrepit old king.

Did you think
you could have been her only lover?

Wouldn't that have been a crime!

And because you have

a poet's heart, did you think

you could have dreams like that?

When she says she really loves you
do you think she tells the truth?

Menelaus, you are nothing but a fool.

My faithful young queen

asleep under the cherry tree
blossom kissing her naked thighs;

why does she have this impish smile

playing shamelessly on her lips?