Dross hymn

Your blue eyes, thieves,
kidnappers of all the oceans, all the seas,
beckoned to me, and willingly I came to drink.

My heart swallowed your liquids gently.
Then, intoxicated by the first and last drops,
it sucked in countless gallons
yet remained parched
and yearned, mourned for more of your loving waters.
Its thirst was a scream
of the purest agony
that caused the stars to quake,
that made the orcas quiver,
that forced the gods to quarrel
and you withheld your moisture.

To summon back your narcotic floods,
I convened my mystics
and compelled them to erase time and my misdeeds,
to mutter their most colossal hexes
so that you could synchronize your watch with mine
and blot away the months when we could not love.

Their incantations were useless
against this cruel chronology,
when monsters entered our bed and bloodstreams
when demons wriggled into the tiny cracks between us
and turned them into chasms and canyons
with their wicked bulldozers
when a diamond-hard grief came to dwell in my soul
when regret and discomfort arrived to plunder
with their merciless, bottomless robber-bags
when an uninvited executioner came with his filthy axe
and split our hearts apart.

We ended, as was destined.
The magicians had to fail.
Your talisman,
Your mighty will,
tempered in a holy forge
made of the strongest steel, never tin,
was more powerful than their tsunamis
that could not breed forgetfulness nor bend time
nor distill the venoms from my mind.
In an explosion your tremendous heart repelled my spells
spitting out the acids that had leaked onto you
from my toxic, horrible love
freeing you from this death chamber.

Yet each night,
I stand vigil on this useless battlefield
this empty war zone I made alone
and I wait
until the moon brings your reflection to my shield

and bending, praying,
I wash your scars with my tears
and hold high two lanterns,
one, in vain;
the other illuminates my sins.