The Dilemma of My Youth

Oh, I could have taken her innocence

To ruin in the refiner’s fire of my own lust

With nothing left to consecrate, I would sprinkle her cremated ashes on my bed

And wallow in them until I was white and muddy with wasted innocence.

My heart cried out, screaming through the heat

Refusing the message from Athena

Until finally, exhausted, I bade her will with mine

Please to leave

So I could go on receiving thieves with an honor that refused angels.