I am blocked.

Aphrodite keeps her rod closed in bandages,

For the heart bleeds when pulled with heat.

Product of a lonely wave,

I embark on a rainy day, no more

Than an echo in some forgotten Arabian

Night.

There are theatres of souls, more

Heavy in mind and sight, than this soul

Wandering from grave to grave.

Where will I lie when

Hades calls a dream to my ear and

Pulls?

Image after image,

Fear after reflection,

A Miltonic river raging through my

Waterfall mind. And there is a Satan,

As there is a hand to pull the hand

Of a lonely child,

There is a madman.

And he will drag Aphrodite into hell,

With my heart bleeding,

And rip apart her clothes

With wild horror and an angels

Burning wings.