sullen as flattened pillows
that are useless to sink into dreams
& rusty nails driven so deep
fantasies of sleep prevail
lovers close the door on a past
but nothing can resurrect
those moments before
contentment contaminates
the canvas with realism
struck in awe by how perfect
water droplets are on the golden challice
yet representations of light
go unnoticed in the scheme of things
the gallows, sunken ships in the foreground
Judith & Holofernes struggle
in that scene in the dark--his wound
from childhood come to existence
her Wounds gone unnoticed
yet she won the cause, defeated
the commander with her own hands
but what if she loved him, this tormentor?
she would have given up her body
like communion but he would drink
all the wine, wipe his lips, & walk away again
never to promise to surrender
never to say he would
