Sappho

Sappho

If you stand there
silent any longer
saying nothing, your words
may seep from under your skin
and trail down your legs
like blood from a newly cracked egg
and you will appear
just old enough to think
yourself a woman

I remember
when you were thin
as a twig, barely budding
nipples like pebbles
when cold morning
ran her hands between
the sheets

Now here you are
angry before me
fingertips and twisted tongue
lyrist, mother and lover
dressed in the long purple
of priestesses
and queens

I know why you are here and
I have no regrets
or apologies
Andromeda
is old enough to pick flowers
or lovers
as she chooses

I remember a time when
you, Sappho
would leave my bed
whining all the while
then stumble home
weak knees
to write my name a hundred ways
skirts a mess about your ankles