Byzantium

Seduction was easy
when you were the only woman in the empire
the Sultan couldn’t have.

He suffered ravenous thin nights
whittled down into intricate
ruin.

Days ran aground onto sharp stars.

Seduction was easy
when I was your prisoner
when I put myself there and you kept me
those days by the water so close to purgatory
inquisition
invention of our story.

When metaphor was so big
small considerations were as simple as a door
slightly larger than its frame
a cat in the morning on our step
come one day to stay.

Loving you through the small of our story
it’s easy to move through adjectives of balance;
daylight warming boards on the porch
coffee in our morning cornered way from the street
neglecting with you all the outside
and the parking tickets
until the uniform shows up one day
knock
at the door

and we rock paper scissors
for murder
surrender
or escape.