Ariadne

Leeward, men on bright ships.
In the night
stars reflect
the surface of a black sea.

Each man a pirate for my heart -
none that can bear
its ruby spikes,
its tips wet with all their blood.

My island, my white dress.
Bells' toll
echo in my womb
that can only weep.

They cannot have me.
No man can.
Death is my husband.


(c) 2007 JL Williams