Jupiter, Unyielding
Lunar muscles round out his arm,
his chest: god of the planet, whose
purple robe trails in stardust
on this glossed page—
my finger edging a thigh
that glides upward to what
I am told I should want.
Turn the page:
moons in a ragged waltz.
In close orbit, Ganymede,
his plump ice-cheeks
blushed with storm-red
rage at being taken—
as the boy of myth caught in air
and caged in lustful talons
to serve his red-eyed master.
Pushed to his knees.
Voice stopped up
by the god’s thickness, knowledge
pouring down his throat.
The tenderness after—
I don’t understand how
he can embrace the desire
that took him by force.
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