Selene: incantation, confession, and prayer

by Alyssa Peterson

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I
light touch the linen                                  quilt curved to hold 
your damp breaths spin                             seafoam from gold
ancient ores crumble and                          clasp my hands 
maple shores bow                                      to sift the sand 
window panes resound                              the clap of the branch 
our breaths are bound                                to the heave of the dance.

II
(one mis-sis-sip-pi               
                                                                   two mis-sis-sip-pi)
(in – – – –
                                                        in – – – –)
(and out– – – – –
                                                        and out – – – – –)      
                                                                   (I love you, I love you).

III                                                                      
Oh, Gentle Waves!                                     Oh, Golden Orb!   

why                                                             does the moon recede the swell? 
why                                                             must you leave me for the gale?  
why                                                             am I seeping through the glass? 
why                                                             can’t the dance last?