Volume IV Archive

Daphne and Apollo

At first it’s as simple as two people running.
Running from one story into another.
Another second, she’ll scream out in bowers.
Bowers of new green so tender it hurts her.
Her hands become halos that twig bone to branches.
Branches that carry her up into sunlight.
Sunlight that sinks a warm hand into belly.
Belly that gives way to rough bark and breakneck.
Breakneck the turning from fear into arbor.
Arbor for armor, his ardor outlasts her.
Her sense turns to sun-dapple, leaf-hiss, surrender.
Surrender the girl for the heartbeat worth saving.