a journal of fantastical poetry

Conversations with Immortals

by Kelsey J. Mills

I asked Ganymede if he ever forgot sunning rocks and softest wool
He said it dulls  
Like the beating of the sea against the stone 
Like the knife against the wrist 
And the liquor against the tongue. 
And he said this too will pass,  
But it may never end. 

I asked Hyacinth if he ever regretted blond hair and sparkling eyes 
He said he never saw it coming 
Until it lodged himself in the brain, 
And itched. 
Maybe it was my fault, he said. 
Too beautiful was I.  
I couldn't help it,  
Not everything blooms.  

I asked Attis why we bother when it ends in blood 
He crooked his finger in response. 
I left his pieces by the seashore,  
Some of us can only hope for stagnation. 

Persephone told me I'd accept it by the snowfall,  
When the tracks of yesterday 
Disappeared under nature's frost tipped kisses 
Freeze me through this year,  
The permafrost exhausts me.

October 31st, 2015

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