for morning
in the light before Athens
is grubby
white
closed doorways
brilliant blue
walls
drippling wine
and history
a singular churchfor morning
following my sense
finds two heels
the friends of dogs
and pebbled pathways
the thin bruise
of thonged feet
in the light before Athens
is grubby
white
closed doorways
brilliant blue
walls
drippling wine
and history
a singular churchfor morning
following my sense
finds two heels
the friends of dogs
and pebbled pathways
the thin bruise
of thonged feet
i have not opened my mouth
yet wide
my skin shouts country
i have not opened my mouth
yet we’ve met before
here
they know me
as a goddess.