scene: the temple, from 'akhnaten'

you were a paunch of sun                                                                                     you were
convinced of the clarity of                                  alabaster in those dead-still halls, but
spectres, were foxed                                                                            out of the masonry
out of lapis pillar, knocking over                                                    shallowed saucers of
jasmine-milk and                                                                                      perfumed tallow.
 

suddenly                                                                              in the chiding of silvered idols
it became clear -                                                                          that you couldn’t silence
the froth of apostasy                                                                         with a fell gesture of
kneeling palms up at                                                                    an electrum of an altar.
 

the black-toed priests                                                                       whorling around you,
and the aten itself zenithed                                                           in the fog of your eyes
as you intoned                                               a stiletto of tongue into your solar plexus,
a prologue                                                                                             slowly unfastening.
 

on the cold marble                                                                                      there that night
I’d like to imagine that                                                                                           you wept
pallid, attempting a preaching                                                                       for your soul
into the abyss of                                                                                                 your throat
the nonlight gleam, a fallen falcon's head.                                                          at dawn,
 

you might have been a cronus                                     yielding just one god in reverse.