I open my eyes to search for where the Gods have placed you.
The moon, a natural satellite in the sky, entrances
the blue dots of your nerve-settling belt.
Clouds underneath this heavy metal machine pulsate and turn over
on itself almost as if your footsteps are soothing the roars
of the powder puff pillows.
Is this the way the blue seas reacted
as you walked over them to reach Lemnos without sight?
The love child of Poseidon birthed from a lonely farmer’s oxen.
O great hunter, I’m new to this part of the world
and I can keep you company
where the skies meet the heavens.
Dawn approaches and she makes you fade from me.
This is the curse born under Scorpio.