Ψάπφοι Σελάννα

by on Apr 2, 2013 in Poetry | 2 comments

By Sonya Taaffe

Sappho with violets in your smile,

why lie awake counting the Pleiades?

Why pace the grey shore

with the sea hissing of lost lovers

when my arms are warmer than the white of waves,

the sweet and sharp of your skin like Pramnian wine?

Come here to me and I will leave my husband dreaming,

the stars to circle in the wandering sky.

My hair darkens in the shadow of your hand,

but yours blooms silver, shining like the foam

of the morning you leap, not ageless, singing,

from that bright cliff of days.


More from Sonya Taaffe:

Sonya TaaffeSonya Taaffe’s short stories and poems have appeared in such venues as Beyond Binary: Genderqueer and Sexually Fluid Speculative Fiction, The Moment of Change: An Anthology of Feminist Speculative Poetry, Here, We Cross: A Collection of Queer and Genderfluid Poetry from Stone Telling, People of the Book: A Decade of Jewish Science Fiction & Fantasy, Last Drink Bird Head, The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror, The Alchemy of Stars: Rhysling Award Winners Showcase, and The Best of Not One of Us. Her work can be found in the collections Postcards from the Province of Hyphens and Singing Innocence and Experience (Prime Books) and A Mayse-Bikhl (Papaveria Press). She is currently senior poetry editor at Strange Horizons; she holds master’s degrees in Classics from Brandeis and Yale and once named a Kuiper belt object.

2 Comments

  1. καλῶς καὶ εὖ ἀείδεις, ὦ ἁγαθή ποιέουσα.

  2. The little Classicist in me will die happy knowing there are others who appreciate such beautiful things.

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