She emerges from her house—like a wolf out of her den; <br />her green eyes mocking the moon. <br />Cradling her liquor like a still-born child, <br />she stretches forth one dead hand and tells me to <br />”drink this then make love to me.” <br /> <br />I do it cause what else is there? <br />I loved her once upon a time— <br />adored everything she breathed; <br />that seems like a thousand years ago on this night. <br /> <br />She told me to read Koestler—reciting, <br />Nothing is more sad than the death <br />of an Illusion. <br /> <br />She quoted Eliot: <br />To lose beauty in terror, <br />Terror in inquisition. <br /> <br />I put my hand over her mouth <br />and scooped up her fair frame with the other; <br />*laying her down in the patch of a clearing— <br />she wept but her soul was willing.* <br /> <br />And when we lay exhausted, backs to the earth, <br />spirits to the heavens, <br />she turned to me and said— <br />It'll be the restless hearts that never mend.<br /><br />s./j. goldner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/divergent-kingdom-come/
